

















COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT; 




I 








Nell took him on her lap where ... he nestled contentedly 
off to Slumber-land 


Further Annals of the Girl 
in the Slumber-Boots 


BY 

JEAN RANDOLPH SEARLES f- 

Author of 

** The Girl in the Slumber-Boots 



Cincinnati: 

Press of Jennings and Graham 



\ 


Copybight, 1912, By 
Viola Bienz. 

All rights reserved, including that of 
translation into foreign languages, in- 
cluding the Scandinavian. 


* t 
4 4 

• « * 


t/ 

©CI.A328269 (w 



®o <iWrs. ■jB. % 

FOR HER KINDNESS IN ALLOWING ME TO 
RELATE THIS TRUE STORY OF STRANGE 
ADVENTURES AND BITTER TRIALS. 















CONTENTS 


BOOK I 

GRAYSON PLAYS A TRUMP CARD 

nell’s point op view 

CHAPTER 

I. A Letter and Its Consequences, - 9 

II. Lady Nan’s Plot — How It Worked, 17 

III. “My Little Rex!” 23 

IV. A Man of Wrath, - 31 

V. Nell Plans Her Flight, - - 41 

VI. The Working Out of the Plan, 49 

VII. An Unexpected Check, 57 

VIII. A Sudden Inspiration, - - 65 

IX. In Durance, 75 

X. “ Kind Hearts Are More Than Cor- 
onets,” 82 

XI. An Unfortunate Slip, - 92 

XII. “I’m Not Worthy, Nell!” - - 101 

XIII. “The Roadway of My Heart,” - 113 


5 


6 


Contents 


BOOK II 

DAME FORTUNE SHUFFLES FOR A NEW 
DEAL 

DEANE LOVELL’S POINT OF VIEW 

CHAPTER 

I. “Buck Up, Deane, and Chuck the 

Whole Thing,” - 123 

II. Back Trails, - 133 

III. The Search for Nell, - 142 

IV. The Ghost of What Might Have 

Been, 151 

V. A Sudden Meeting, - - - 165 

VI. News of Grayson and Lady Nan, 172 

VII. “Oh, My Little Rex!” - - 181 

VIII. A Cruel Letter, - - - - 190 

IX. “All Thy Waves and Thy Billows 

Are Gone Over Me!” - - 198 

X. A Startling Conclusion, - - 206 

XI. An Astounding Phase, - - 214 

XII. The Abduction, - 225 

XIII. “Daddy, Daddy!” - 232 

XIV. Little Daphne, - 239 

XV. “His Course Is Run” - - 248 

XVI. The Fatted Calf With Brass Band 

Accompaniment, - 255 

XVII. Glen’s Story, - 269 

XVIII. Exit Lady Nan, - 274 

XIX. Aftermath — “All ’s Right With the 

World,” 283 


BOOK 

GRAYSON PLAYS A TRUMP CARD 


NELL’S POINT OF VIEW 














































CHAPTER I 


A Letter and Its Consequences 

The sound of the street-door closing behind Deane 
sounded like the knell of doom to my shrinking ears. 
The blank dismay, the bitter, bitter sense of loss that 
overwhelmed me then ! The succeeding hour was full 
of black despair when I began to realize that I should 
see him no more ; I grappled valiantly with the demon 
which whispered that I had but to speak the word, 
to send him a message of recall, to bring him flying 
back to me. How I had the stamina to refrain from 
the folly in that dark hour when I seemed slipping 
from the safe moorings of the calm backwater into 
which I had managed to draw my bark, is more than 
I can say. 

But it would have been the act of an imbecile 
to have given ground then. Some good angel with- 
held my hand. And then, how thankful I was when 
the madness was over and done with ! How mortified 
I should have been if any such message had reached 
Deane ! For a special messenger brought me a letter 
from him soon after I ’d dried my eyes and become 
somewhat composed. 

There was a note of good-bye from Howard in- 
closed, which Deane said he had forgotten to give me 
before he went away. 

“I am leaving for New York almost at once,” 
9 


10 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


Deane wrote. “I can’t express in mere words how 
thankful I am that you spurred my spirit up to the 
point where I had the fortitude to do my duty. Sober 
second thoughts have convinced me that you were ab- 
solutely right — there would have come a time, in the 
years succeeding, when conscience would have woke 
to scourge me sorely for the cowardly action of which 
I was so nearly guilty. I see that now. If things 

had been otherwise What a wonderful little 

maid you are! To think that it rested with you, 
knowing what you know, and facing what you have 
to face, to point out the only honorable course ! While 
I, who should have taken the initiative, well-nigh 
made shipwreck for both of us! But I know now 
that it was partly my fears for you, my dread of what 
the future had in store, that made me shrink from 
the bitter necessity of leaving you. 

“But since I ’ve had this insight into your strength 
of soul, this knowledge of your power to combat the 
weaknesses of your own heart, I know that, no mat- 
ter what destiny brings of suffering or trial, you will 
meet it like the brave young soldier that you are. I 
didn’t deem it possible, such stoutness of will, such 
vital force could dwell within so dainty a body.” 

Oh, I told myself, if I were only half as strong 
as he imagines, these weary years in store wouldn’t 
loom before me with such gray dreariness. I simply 
had to appeal, in that trying hour, to the latent force 
in his character to bolster up my own weak purpose. 
If he had been other than the true knight he proved 
himself, there would have been a far different story. 
Strong! I? It is to laugh, as the boys used to say. 

I took up the letter once more. 


Grayson Plays a Trump Card 11 

“ I couldn’t persuade Lady Halliwell to go with 
me, although it is in her interests that I make the 
trip. She remains here for the present, under some 
plea of woman’s gear in the making, to look after. 
But I ’m convinced she means mischief — if she can 
find any vulnerable point of attack, no promise, no 
tacit agreement, nothing will stay her hand — she is 
wholly without conscience; what she wants, that she 
invariably takes, no matter what the terms of her 
covenant may be. 

“Of course, she gave me her word of honor, when 
we came to terms, that she would make no further 
move against you — but that goes for nothing; you 
must not bank on it at all. 

“I am to settle a large sum, or rather the income 
from it, upon Lady Halliwell for so long a time as 
she shall keep silence. But she will seek some loop- 
hole out of her bargain, or repudiate it absolutely if 
she can. She proposes to proceed to the Far West 
almost immediately to put matters in train for her 
divorce ( ? ) . She will, if she succeeds in marrying 
Grayson, hold a strong card against us; for we will 
be practically helpless to unmask her perfidy ; it would 
be exposing our own culpability in allowing her to 
go ahead with her marriage, when we both know that 
she has no legal right to marry. Oh, it ’s a queer 
tangle, but we must just trust to luck for a way out 
of it. 

“I want to warn you once more to be on your 
guard. Lady Nan is planning trouble ; it is borne in 
upon me somehow. Don’t keep the marriage docu- 
ment about your person — it ’s the most obvious place, 
and she will stop at nothing to recover it. I would 


1£ Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


advise you to place it in safety deposit at once, with 
your jewels, at least while you remain here. 

“Besides this menace there is another that makes 
me cold when I think of it: Grayson may regain his 
memory of these blank months at any time — a chance 
blow over the head, even some familiar phrase or 
line of thought may bring it about. Lady Halliwell 
will doubtless get to him, if she can find out where 
he is, and put him wise to affairs, and if he believes 
her tales you will have a fierce time of it. I would 
suggest that you leave New Orleans just as soon as 
possible — as the company you are singing with goes 
very soon now, I feel somewhat reassured. 

“If there should ever come a time that your diffi- 
culties get beyond you, don’t hesitate to call upon 
me; I can safely promise you that you will not be 
in danger of any nonsense. I Ve learned my lesson, 
hard though it was. Oh, no ; you have naught to fear 
from me, if you really need me. I hope for nothing 
now but to know that all is well with you. Do n ’t 
forget your promise to acquaint me of your future 
well-being; remember I shall be in suspense until I 
hear that everything is 0 K. 

‘ ‘ God bless and keep you, my little love ! 

“Deane.” 

I dropped the letter in my lap and pondered long 
and deeply over the possibilities suggested concern- 
ing Lady Nan. I, too, had a feeling that she would 
not hesitate to move against me soon. All the next 
day I tried to think of some safe place to hide the 
paper. I was afraid to venture forth to the bank 
with it; I feared some interference even on the way. 
My sleep was disturbed and fitful all night. And I 


Grayson Plays a Trump Card 13 

had felt so secure ! I had had the impression that 
she would, as a matter of course, go with Deane to 
New York. I thought it imperative if the money were 
to be legally settled upon her. It seems I was wrong. 
Of course, she knows that Deane’s word is as good 
as his bond ; therefore she stays to harass me. "What 
should I do with the paper ? I involuntarily clutched 
the hiding-place in the bosom of my gown (I could 
not bear it away from me a moment) to satisfy my- 
self that it was still there. I could fancy the form 
of mine enemy lurking in odd corners of the house, 
ready to pounce upon me and reave me of my hard- 
won prize. 

I considered taking Sukey with me to the bank, 
or sending her on in advance, with the document 
done up in brown paper in a market-basket, following 
myself at a discreet distance. 

Then, all at once, a bright idea struck me. “Yes, 
I really believe it will work, ’ ’ I said to myself. ‘ ‘ The 
men are still here, but I can easily send them away 
before putting on the last strip of border. How for- 
tunate that Howard had taken it into his head to 
have these two rooms papered!” 

I flew to the little sewing-room, upon which I knew 
they were engaged, but found Sukey there alone, a 
look of supreme contempt on her expressive visage. 

Surrounded by paste-buckets and odds and ends 
of paper, and some cut lengths all ready to be pasted 
up, she broke forth, at sight of me, into a voluble 
tirade against all and sundry of the tribe of master- 
workmen. I was able to deduce from among the mass 
of verbiage, of opprobrious flotsam and jetsam with 
which the irate black woman interlarded her narra- 


14 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 

tive, that a strike had been declared, which had called 
away the men at once, what though a scant twenty 
minutes would have completed the work in the little 
room. 

Sukey had held onto the tools and paste of one 
of the men, an acquaintance of hers, intending to 
finish the job herself ; she being an adept in that line, 
in an amateur way, of course. This jumped with my 
own suddenly-conceived plot; so I said never a word 
against the plan, but egged the determined Sukey on 
to still greater effort, assisting her with eager hand, 
in spite of her protests, till all was done but a last 
strip of border in the right-hand corner. 

I then sent Sukey below for more paste (osten- 
sibly), first having secreted a quantity behind some 
waste paper. 

As soon as her back was fairly turned I began to 
put paste on that last strip of border with a celerity 
that surprised even myself; then I whipped out the 
marriage paper, put it between my teeth, and, taking 
the border by one end, mounted the wooden 1 1 horses,’ ’ 
which were rather short for the height I must reach, 
but by stretching up my arms till I well-nigh pulled 
them from their sockets, I managed to get into a fair 
working distance. Holding the pasted strip in my 
left hand, I contrived to get a small dry piece of the 
paper round the document in order to keep the paste 
from messing up the writing (for, of course, I must 
open the marriage paper so that it wouldn’t be 
bulky) ; then I tried to get the new border on, with 
these underneath, in such a manner that the whole 
Would look workman-like and show no bulge. But 
this was harder than I bargained for; I had to de- 


Grayson Plays a Trump Card 15 

scend more than once to renew the paste, which my 
frantic manipulations invariably wore off. I began 
to despair at last, when repeated efforts left much to 
be desired in the way of straight, smooth surface; 
but I was learning all the while, and finally, by an 
exertion of will and muscle that left me weak and 
panting, managed to get the portion that covered the 
valuable document in place with the smoothness re- 
quired. 

Sukey’s cry of surprise and reproof when she saw 
what I was about came near precipitating me from 
my exalted perch — but I held on, somehow. 

“Don’t stop to scold ; I found the paste after 
you went below, Sukey. Oh, hurry; help me ! Do n’t 
you see it ’s coming loose ? Quick ! Take hold of this 
end and finish it for me.” 

No sooner said than done. 

I took the scolding I knew I deserved, like a lamb ; 
but exulted inwardly all the while at the success of 
my little scheme, and flew round clearing away the 
rubbish with right good will, urging my mentor to 
fall to and help me to make all tidy once more. I 
coaxed her to let me help, for I wanted to keep the 
fact that we had finished the room from the rest 
of the servants, knowing that it was safest so. Grum- 
bling dire prognostications of evil consequences to 
come as a result of my unwise activity, my dour 
handmaid gave up the contest and worked with such 
energy, as a vent to her ruffled feelings, that before 
dusk the little room was in its accustomed order once 
more, even to the laying of the rug and the adjusting 
of the immaculate white curtains; while all evidences 
of our work were relegated to the cellar and the 


16 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


ash heap, where the waste paper was burned at 
once. 

Then I rested for a short time, in preparation for 
my night’s work at the opera, where I felt I must go 
at all costs to-night; for this was the night of the 
benefit given in compliment to me. The French Opera 
House had not been at the disposal of the carnival 
balls during this carnival season for the first time in 
ages. But Manager Loyolles declared that the houses 
were so good, and the requests for the continuance of 
the operas so numerous, he felt justified in holding 
over for awhile — up to the beginning of Lent, at least. 
Herr Heinze told me I ought to feel vastly flattered 
by the circumstance. 

Sukey made a bit of a fuss when she found she 
could not prevail upon me to remain quietly at home ; 
if she had known how weary and sore I really was^ 
and what a stubborn pain had been troubling me ever 
since the strain of the high reaching, her wrath would 
have known no bounds. But the satisfaction I knew 
when I remembered how securely hidden the momen- 
tous document was, compensated much for all aches 
and pains. And to think that not a trace remained 
of our labors, I thought, as I surveyed the clean, neat 
little room ; it seemed impossible to have accomplished 
so much in so short a time. 


CHAPTER II 


Lady Nan’s Plot — How It Worked 

And it was well we had used such despatch, as 
events proved. 

On my way to the opera that night the cab stopped 
at a dark corner, and before I could realize what was 
happening, some one opened the cab door — a woman, 
I made out in the instant she stood silhouetted against 
the distant arc light, before she sprang in beside me. 
The shriek I gave was smothered by a cloth that was 
thrown over my head with incredible swiftness; my 
struggles were stilled as speedily by a sweetish odor 
that I knew must be chloroform. 

When I came to myself once more I found that 
I was alone on a dark street, half sitting, half lying 
on a doorstep. I sat up, mazed-like, and after a bit 
tried to piece together the elusive threads of things. 
As my brain cleared a little I recognized my sur- 
roundings. There was the bakeshop, in full glare of 
the arc-light, a quarter of a block away, where I was 
often compelled to take a hasty cup of tea on busy 
days, when Manager Loyolles was particularly exas- 
perating; the opera building was just round the cor- 
ner. I raised myself painfully, still suffering from 
the misery in my back, and walked weakly to the 
light, looked at my watch, and gave a sigh of relief. 
It was barely eight o’clock; there would be just time, 
if I were very swift, to make up before my turn 
came to go on. 

2 


17 


18 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


I hastened away with scarcely a thought to spare 
for my rough handling of the hour previous — time 
enough for that in the fifteen minutes’ wait between 
acts, I mused, as I fairly skimmed over the ground. 
Of course, it was Lady Nan in search of her certifi- 
cate; I knew that well. The disarray in which I 
found my garments told me that the search had been 
a thorough one; it was well that I had worn my 
long cloak, and that the stage entrance was in shadow, 
or I must have presented a sorry spectacle. 

Like one in a dream I went through my duties; 
the pain kept racking my abused frame almost past 
the power of endurance, and I was sensible that my 
work was woefully weak. Undoubtedly, if this were 
the night of my first trial there would have been 
no second one for me. 

When I fainted, while singing the closing lines of 
the first act, just prior to the curtain, every one must 
have understood the handicap under which my illness 
placed me, and I hoped they made due allowance for 
inartistic work. 

The manager persuaded me to retire in favor of 
my understudy when I fainted again, while trying to 
change for the second act ; and I was soon rolling home 
in a motor (I had a prejudice against cabs after my 
night’s experience), too thankful for my recent canni- 
ness in placing the paper in a safe place to regret my 
bad singing or care greatly what the verdict of my 
auditors would be. 

It was with a feeling of relief I entered my own 
door, for a fear that something might have gone 
amiss in my absence had been troubling me all the 
way home. Sukey knew nothing of the document and 


Grayson Plays a Trump Card 19 

its new hiding-place, of course; but I feared an in- 
advertent remark might fall from her lips, in spite 
of the caution I had given her, about the papering 
we had finished. Lady Nan would pounce upon the 
intelligence at once, and everything would be off; 
her keen wits would get to work instantly to my 
certain undoing. 

My fears were justified, and that at once. 

An unwonted commotion in the direction of my 
boudoir made me hasten my steps. Sukey’s voice 
raised high in altercation smote my ears; then, a 
moment later, I recognized Lady Halliwell’s softly 
modulated accents. 

“My good woman, it is quite useless for you to 
make any difficulty about this matter; we are armed 
with a search warrant. You can’t stop us if you 
would. Your mistress would be the first to step aside 
were the facts put before her.” And I was near 
enough by this time to the zone of action to take in 
the wave of the delicate white hand which told the 
plain-clothes officer, that accompanied Lady Nan, to 
proceed with his duty. 

But Sukey stood her ground valiantly and defied 
them in no uncertain terms to go on with their “low- 
down, triflin’ tricks.” 

“What ’s all this, Sukey?” I asked, quietly, step- 
ping in among the excited group, which parted in 
quick surprise at the unexpected sound of my voice. 

Lady Nan Halliwell gave me a vindictive flash 
from her blue eyes. She could ill brook the sight 
of one who guarded so well the prize she was making 
such superhuman efforts to recover. 

She had lost no time in marshaling her forces, 


£0 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 

showing that everything must have been carefully 
prearranged, so that, failing to succeed in the kidnap- 
ing enterprise, another lay ready to her hand. 

The officer came forward, showed me his warrant 
deferentially, and explained at the same time that 
Lady Nan insisted there was something belonging to 
her in the house. Would I take it amiss if he went 
forward with his duty ? It was growing late ; doubt- 
less I would want to retire soon. 

I needed nothing further to assure me that a 
Creole stood before me; no other would be so depre- 
catingly polite on such a mission. Lady Nan, I could 
plainly see, was chafing at the air of deference. The 
sooner it was over, the better, I told myself. 

I assured the officer there would be no further 
objections, and motioned him to get on with the 
search. 

I drew Sukey aside, under the pretense of need- 
ing her assistance in getting off my wraps, and cau- 
tioned her again, in a whisper, against breathing a 
word concerning the work we had been about that 
afternoon. Fortunately there were no evidences any- 
where about, for Sukey told me that her mulatto 
friend had returned after I had gone and removed the 
paste-buckets and tools from the basement. I de- 
spatched her below, ostensibly to be in readiness to 
guide the expedition through the lower rooms, but 
really to forestall any break of hers if there should 
be any undue interest shown in the little sewing-room. 
Then I sat down upon a sewing-rocker on the side 
of the room opposite to the one which held the secret 
of the momentous packet and busied myself noncha- 
lantly with some mending. 


Grayson Plays a Trump Card 21 

Lady Nan followed me presently. I saw that she 
wished to say something in private. It relieved me 
a good deal to see that she took such pains to keep 
the contents of the paper a secret, though a minute’s 
thought would have shown me that she could n ’t come 
squarely out with what she sought. 

“You w r on’t find it, Nan,” I told her in a low 
voice, anticipating her words. “I have it in safety 
deposit.” (And so I had, safer than any bank!) 
“Did you think I would allow it to remain unguarded 
a single night longer ? Oh, no ! I have too much re- 
spect for your long arm for that!” And I nodded 
my head wisely. 

It seemed to exasperate her to the point of frenzy. 
She raised her hands menacingly, as though to strike 
me to the floor, and her face was so convulsed with 
hate that I shrank away, terror-stricken, at the storm 
my simple words had invoked. 

The voice of the officer brought Lady Nan to 
herself. 

“Ma’am, I ’ve finished in this room; have you any 
more information as to the nature of the packet to 
give me? You were so very vague, I really can’t say 
that I rightly know for what I ’m searching.” Only 
he called it “su’ching,” and said “fo’h” for “for,” 
and so on. 

Evidently Lady Nan had not counted on my re- 
turn so quickly, and relied on her own powers to 
search out what she sought. She was past speaking 
now. She realized that the search was useless, for 
she waved him grandly toward the sewing-room and 
swept into the dressing-room adjoining with a step 
that fairly stamped. 


22 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


I sat serenely at my ease, apparently, while the 
officer and a deputy whom he summoned from How- 
ard’s room emptied drawers and trunks, and peered 
into cupboards without result. The tide of investi- 
gation rolled off finally to distant parts of the house 
and eventually brought up to the last cubby-hole in 
futile- wise. 

Lady Nan expressed herself as satisfied that she 
was wrong, murmured a perfunctory apology under 
the eyes of the officer, and departed with that func- 
tionary after casting a singularly menacing glare at 
me as she went out, that somehow struck a chill to 
my heart. 

But I was in a state of great exhaustion by this 
time, unable to give thought to analysis of chance 
glances; for worn-out nature could stand no more. 
I staggered to the bed and cast myself down in a 
condition bordering upon coma. I had held myself 
so determinedly cool and collected, in spite of my 
suffering, throughout the foregoing ordeal that I felt 
strangely tired, faint, and deathly sick now that the 
reaction had come. 

Yes, worn-out nature began very soon to take 
toll in nerve-racking pain that tore and bit its way 
through my tortured body with sickening force. 


CHAPTER III 


“My Little Rex!” 

Sukey came running at the first moan, and after 
a question or two muttered a series of maledictions 
upon the events all and sundry which had, according 
to her tell, conspired to bring about the present 
lamentable state of affairs. 

She hustled me into my night clothes, installed me 
in my bed, and ’phoned for the doctor forthwith. 

Oh, the black, pain-racked hours that succeeded! 
Hours when I looked Death in the face from a pit 
of infinite anguish and found him very terrible. How 
I begged them to kill me, in heaven’s mercy to kill 
me ! Clawing at them in a frenzy of entreaty to 
end the agony at once ! By and by a sort of lethargy 
stole over me; I sank into unconsciousness. Some 
anesthetic was administered, I suppose, which dulled 
my perceptions and kept them so, evidently ; for there 
was a strange blank when I strove to pierce through 
the maze of pain and grasp at a vague, intangible- 
like sense of comfort that seemed to lie just beyond 
my reach. 

Out of a fathomless pit of pain, out of the very 
valley of the shadow of death I woke one morning 
to a fair new day — woke dazed-like. A mist seemed 
to cloud my brain ; my memory was strangely blurred. 
What was it that I was only half conscious of — that 
would be like water in a thirsty land to me? I tried 
23 


24 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


hard for a while to put together the pieces of the 
puzzle, but the key eluded me tantalizingly, and I 
was far too indolent to rouse up sufficiently from the 
heavenly stupor in which I lay to make much of an 
effort to clear up the mystery. It was bliss just to 
lie there with relaxed muscles and nerves, and take 
no thought of what I should eat, or what I should 
drink, or wherewithal I should be clothed. 

I was vaguely aware that Sukey hovered round 
me with solicitous care, consulting solemnly at times 
with some one in the background whom I couldn’t 
see and hadn’t enough energy to try to get a 
glimpse of. 

My mind seemed strangely blank. I hardly roused 
up before I sank into a troubled sleep, which was 
peopled with strange fantastic figures, figments of a 
disordered fancy. 

When I woke again, a chance word of Sukey ’s 
restored the balance to my mind. Memory stirred 
faintly and sort of “turned over in its sleep.” I 
was conscious of a painful sense of loss first. Some- 
thing had happened; a something which made me 
feel strangely alone and unfriended. Then in a 
flash it all came back, each event in the order I had 
striven in vain to give it before. Yes, everything 
came back. Deane’s last visit; his last look, so full 
of heartache; the ride to the theater; the attack; 
Lady Nan’s visit and departure; the black hours of 
pain and fear; my child’s first cry; and then an 
interval of total unconsciousness, through which, try 
as I would, I could not pierce. 

As the day passed and I grew strong enough to 
take special note of my surroundings I became a 


Grayson Plays a Trump Card 25 

good deal puzzled by Sukey’s strange behavior. She 
eyed me so narrowly, for one thing; was obviously 
anxious whenever I opened my lips to make some 
simple request; and I more than once noticed that 
an expression of relief succeeded the worried look I 
had surprised upon her sable face, as of some danger 
passed (for the present only, her eyes appeared to 
indicate) ; and she would straightway forestall any 
further question by voluble speech — how “Mistah 
Grayson done been cum back fum de lake” — ; and 
then, catching herself up suddenly, as though remem- 
bering something — how “Doctah Lovell done sail 
away in his boat fo’h New Yawk, and Mis Lovell” — 
Here she caught herself up once more, hesitated, then 
— would I have rice or chicken broth and sago for 
tea; and so on and on and on. 

A chill struck my heart at last when I became con- 
vinced that this was something more than a sick 
fancy of mine; that she really was trying to keep 
something from me. Why else did she evade the 
questions in my eyes — questions my tongue dared not 
utter ? 

Where was my baby? Why were there no evi- 
dences of child-life anywhere about the house? No 
little garments littered the rooms, when I sought for 
them anxiously. No faintest cry reached my strain- 
ing ears. The immaculate order mocked me at every 
turn. It was very strange. A cruel fear that it was 
dead assailed me at last. Yes, it had not survived the 
premature birth. This was what made Sukey scuttle 
off with a muttered word of excuse whenever I was 
about to muster up courage to ask for it. Dead! 
And I had had never a sight of its tiny face, its 


26 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


baby hands that had entwined themselves round my 
heart before ever I heard its half-stifled wail ! 

I began to cry feebly at last, no longer able to 
bear up, in my weakened state, against the doubts 
and fears that possessed me. 

The nurse, a motherly body with an air of sharp 
alertness, but with a sympathetic face withal, chanced 
to pass through the room at this juncture. 

“Why, what ’s the matter, honey?” in a brisk 
voice. 1 1 Has the pain come back ? Are n ’t you com- 
fortable?” bustling about cheerfully, arranging my 
coverings and plumping up pillows deftly. “There, 
now, ” as I shook my head slightly and brushed away 
the salt drops: “go to sleep again, like a good little 
mother. ’ ’ 

Her words made my heart beat with a sudden 
access of hope. She would hardly have used just 
those words if anything had happened. I took heart 
of grace. 

“Nurse, you have lifted a burden off my heart. 
My baby — it is alive, then? I thought — ” 

“Alive? I should say he is! Wake up, Mrs. 
Grayson ; you ’ve had a bad dream, I reckon. Alive ! 
If you ’d hear him squeal when he gets his bath or 
when he wants his dinner, there wouldn’t be any 
doubt in your mind on that score ; I should say not ! ’ ’ 

Oh, Nurse, bring him to me — ah, do, do! Let 
me have just one peep !” I coaxed, when she hesitated. 

“Why, what an anxious little mother! Why, you 
do n’t mean to say you do n’t remember cuddling him 
in your arms that day when you seemed more like 
yourself? Well,” as I regarded her in puzzled won- 


Grayson Plays a Trump Card 27 

der, “well, it gets me ! It must have been a decidedly 
subconscious cuddle, I must say. Why, he ’s come to 
you twice a day for his dinner for the last week. And 
you mean to tell me that you do n ’t remember ? ’ ’ 

I shook my head. 

“Well, I never did hold with doctors’ giving 
anesthetics. Always makes the patient dippy for 
days afterward, and is dangerous to boot. If I ’d 
been here at the time I ’d have fought against it 
tooth and toenail. I s’pose your doctor had another 
maternity case on the string and wanted to get yours 
over with in good season. Oh, they ’re a foxy lot, 
doctors. Oh, no; do n’t trouble to defend them. You 
can just save your breath to cool your soup with. 
I wouldn’t trust any of ’em further than I could 
see ’em. To think of his using instruments — it makes 
me sick ! Oh, they ’re a bad lot, honest to John ! 
I could tell you things that would make your hair 
curl!” Then recollecting that this was not exactly 
the most cheerful intelligence for a patient now lan- 
guishing under the care of a member of the banned 
profession, she went off on another attack. 

“Sukey tells me that you insisted on finishing the 
papering of the little sewing-room off the boudoir the 
same day you took sick. Shame on such a little fuss- 
fuss! What if the paper-hangers did go on strike 
and leave you all upset? Was this a time for you 
to do such work? Oh, yes, I know; Sukey did most 
of it, but you insisted on putting on that last length 
yourself. Yes, she told me all about it ; and how you 
took a cramp the very same evening, but refused to 
stay off your feet in spite of all she could say. Went 


28 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 

to the Opera House and tried to drag through your 
part, too! Oh, you ought to be spanked, honest to 
John! No thanks to you that you didn’t lose that 
blessed baby and your own life into the bargain. Oh, 
you need a great scolding, you great baby ; for you ’re 
little more than that yourself, and oughtn’t to be 
at large without a nurse, honest to John!” And 
nurse shook up the pillows with an emphatic thump, 
and then bustled round the room, setting it to rights 
with deft-handed aplomb. A capable managing body 
was Nurse Grey, with scant patience for the hapless 
mortals less bristling with common sense than herself. 

“But the baby, Nurse — let me see him. I ’ll be 
good ; I won ’t let it worry me, ’ ’ seeing she was about 
to open her lips, “bring him to me, do! That ’s a 
good soul ! ’ ’ 

Grumbling that it wasn’t time to feed him yet, 
that he was much better off where he was, she went 
off reluctantly at last, returning in a short time bear- 
ing in her arms a little flannel bundle, at sight of 
which I began to tremble prodigiously. She laid him 
in my arms and uncovered his face. 

‘ 4 Oh, he ’s a pretty baby ; is n ’t he ? ” I exclaimed, 
a wave of ecstatic mother-love flooding my soul. “But 
what a puny little mite ! ” I added, surveying my little 
son’s microscopic proportions in rather blank dismay. 

Nurse took instant exception to the note of sur- 
prise and disparagement in my voice. 

1 ‘ Puny ! Come, my bonny boy, ’ ’ trying to snatch 
him away; only I held on to the child valiantly. 

* ‘ Come ; your mother is an ungrateful woman. Puny ! 
What else could you expect? Of course he is small; 


Grayson Plays a Trump Card 29 

but all the same I never saw a finer specimen of 
babyhood. And him a seven-months’ child, too! 
Puny! Oh, he ’ll mend of that fast enough, I ’ll in- 
sure you. Why, he ’s again as big as he was at first. 
You could put him in a quart-cup when I took charge 
of him. Just wait a few months; he ’ll grow fast after 
he graduates from that old incubator, for he ’s a 
husky little chap. You ’ll see — ” 

“Incubator? Is he kept in an incubator?” And 
I opened my eyes at this statement. 

“Of course; it ’s the only way to raise prema- 
turely born babes. They get on twice as fast. Be- 
sides they stand a fair chance of not getting on at 
all — just droop and fade away entirely, otherwise.” 
And she flew about briskly, taking away some odds 
and ends of sewing that littered the couch in the far 
comer of the room. 

I looked down at the mite sleeping away so con- 
tentedly in my arms. His hair was long and curly; 
his head a fine shape; and his little limbs, which 
nurse had uncovered proudly, were long and straight. 
Yes, he would be a big man some day. While I 
mused on the remoteness of this time, his eyes un- 
closed and he looked me unwinkingly in the eyes 
with a long, long regard — it was positively uncanny 
to see such a stare in one so young and tiny — looked 
at me with Deane’s own blue eyes; a trifle darker, 
I own, but the expression was identical, that I would 
have sworn to. I gathered him up close and laid 
my lips on the golden hair; then held his cheek to 
mine. Deane’s boy! My Rex’s child; his very own. 
Henceforth I could not say I was alone in the world. 


30 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 

I had something to live for, indeed — my little Rex! 
I whispered with a full heart. Oh, yes; life had 
compensations, I told myself, with tardy appreciation. 

‘ ‘ There ; do n ’t smother him. He won ’t run off ! ’ 9 
quoth nurse, blithely. “There Tl be plenty of time 
to love him when he ’s a bit older; he must go back 
and hibernate awhile now. Come on, dumpling.’ ’ 
And nurse bore him inexorably away in spite of my 
protests. 


CHAPTER IV 


A Man of Wrath 

Roses, roses everywhere, in every variety of color, 
in all sizes, from the dainty cluster beauties to the 
mammoth American Beauty ; roses on the hushes 
lining the walks and climbing in riotous profusion 
up the walls surrounding the courtyard; and roses 
climbing to the very roof of the house itself. I sat 
upon a bench beneath a magnificent magnolia tree 
that made the air sweet with its massive, cream-white 
blooms, and marveled at the wealth of flowers all 
about me. Little Rex slumbered beside me in his 
carriage. We spent almost all our days here in the 
beautiful garden drinking in health and strength 
with each balmy breath that we drew. 

What a beautiful world it was! Yes, in spite of 
a new anxiety that beset me I could exult in and 
love this wealth of fairyland that lay all about me. 
Perhaps all the greater seemed its delights since I 
knew I must leave it, and that speedily. It was just 
as Deane feared; Lady Nan has made mischief, and 
fate played into her hands besides, in the very way 
he thought probable. 

I had recovered from my illness slowly and began 
to creep feebly about the house once more, when nurse 
came to me one day with a rather grave face and in- 
formed me that there was something I ought to know 
now that I was stronger. 


31 


32 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 

A premonition of the truth came to me before she 
could utter another syllable. 

4 4 Howard !” I burst out. “He has had an acci- 
dent ?” 

“How did you guess ?” said nurse, in an aston- 
ished voice. “Yes, he has had a little spill, but it 
is nothing — only, coming as it did, hard upon the 
heels of the first accident they tell me he had, it has 
brought on another slight attack of concussion. Oh, 
it ’s nothing to be alarmed about. You needn’t get 
so white over it. Here, sit by the window. Bless me ! 
How these young wives are bound up in their better- 
halves!” And she surveyed me with mild approach 
at this agitated reception of the news she had so 
elaborately and carefully belittled. 

But she little knew the cause I had for terror. 
Deane had prepared me for what might happen in 
case of another blow on the head. 

“Where is he?” I managed to inquire when I 
could control the trembling of my voice somewhat. 

4 4 Oh, he was taken at once to the B Hospital ; 

he is conscious now, and has asked for you several 
times. He will be able to come home soon. It seems 
he was knocked over the head by the boom; knocked 
clean overboard, during a little squall that came up 
unexpectedly while he was out sailing with a party 
of friends. He was brought to the city at once; but 
it was the third week of your own illness, just after 
you had recovered consciousness; so I insisted that 
they take him to the hospital. I wasn’t going to 
have you given a setback just when we were having 
hopes of you. Your husband has been unconscious 
part of the time, or in a semi-conscious state — some- 


Grayson Plays a Trump Card 33 

times talking sensible enough, and at intervals raving 
over some fancied wrong which he has merely hinted 
at. This was when he first came to himself — or at 
least he wasn’t exactly himself, or he wouldn’t have 
run on so; but it was when he first came out of the 
deathlike stupor.” 

Nurse paused and adjusted a corner of the shawl 
more securely over little Ilex’s feet, then resumed: 

“He hasn’t been told of his boy yet; it ’s being 
kept as a surprise,” looking down worshipingly on 
the small face resting on her arm; for she was cud- 
dling him, for once. “By some strange oversight no 
word went to Mr. Grayson concerning the event — • 
your first doctor was called to Europe, I understand, 
owing to the sudden failing of his invalid son, who 
was abroad with his mother; so the other doctor, 
coming over in a state of agitation (he was a great 
friend of his brother physician) to see how you and 
baby were getting on, failed to comply with a good 
many of the usual forms. Everything was in a gen- 
erally demoralized state when I arrived, soon after, 
to take charge of you. Nobody seemed to know your 
husband ’s address when I spoke of sending word, and 
as you were in a critical condition I had all I could 
do to look to you. Won’t he be the proud and happy 
father when this sturdy fellow is put into his arms ? ’ 9 

I shuddered inwardly at this fatuous question. 

“I ’m sorry I ’ll not be here to see his expression 
when he first claps eyes on the beautiful little face,” 
nurse went on, absorbed in her remarks. “Who 
would dream that this was an incubator baby ? Why, 
he ’s as strong and hearty as a child of five months 
old; and just see that wealth of curly gold! Oh, 
3 


34 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


he ’s a bonny, bonny boy — there ’s no two ways about 
it. I never nursed so fine a specimen of babyhood ! ’ ’ 
And she laid him down reluctantly, to put on her hat ; 
for nurse was leaving us to-day. We should miss her 
capable ministration, baby and I. 

But she declared that we were now able to get 
on without her, and she felt the call to fields where 
the duties were more onerous and the need for her 
services greater than they had been here for the past 
week. 

I mused over this interview on this beautiful April 
day in the garden and made a dozen different plans 
and unmade them again, distractedly, as to what 
course to pursue. I had heard from Howard soon 
after nurse ’s communication. He wrote a long letter, 
making bitter accusations and reviling the state of 
affairs in no uncertain terms. 

It showed that he had really come to himself and 
now knew what had been so long a blank to him. A 
letter from Lady Nan, he says, was among the ar- 
rears of correspondence that he had had forwarded 
to the hospital. Lady Nan’s letter had lain here at 
the house a long time before his address was found 
by nurse. Howard arraigned me bitterly for that cir- 
cumstance; for, of course, as he told me, he could 
see by the postmark that her letter had been written 
and mailed weeks before his accident. He accused 
me of deliberately withholding it; for, of course, 
Howard knew nothing at that time of the birth of 
little Rex and my long period of unconsciousness. 

I had written him a long letter in answer, defend- 
ing myself as best I could and telling him of baby’s 
birth and of my intention of leaving his house soon; 


Grayson Plays a Trump Card 35 

that I was signed to go on tonr with the opera com- 
pany M. Loyolles was forming to tonr the North in 
a series of summer dates; that he (Howard) need 
have no fear — I would soon be out of his life for 
good and all. 

I wondered much what Lady Nan had said, to 
bring about this radical change in the man who 
pleaded so earnestly with me, that night so long ago, 
to stay with him, and all should be overlooked. But 
no doubt she had vilified me dreadfully, placing her 
own vile constructions on what had passed during 
those weeks when I had been so closely associated with 
Deane in nursing Howard back to health. 

So I mused away the afternoon, planning my flit- 
ting, and wondering how it would seem to be adrift 
in the world with no one but Sukey to cling to. I 
had saved up a goodly part of my salary, only using 
what was absolutely necessary for doctor’s and nurse’s 
bills, and my wardrobe, of course. I must lay by 
for possible sickness or other contingencies. 

With this end in view I had been trying my hand, 
under Sukey ’s tuition, these last few mornings, strug- 
gling with unaccustomed fingers with the mysteries 
of my little man’s toilet — to the edification of neither 
party to the transaction, little Rex’s protests being 
made in no uncertain tones against the incompetent 
handling of his impromptu nurse. But this last 
morning things were not so bad. We closed the ordeal 
in a distinctly less exhausted state of mind and body 
than at either of the other strenuous sessions. It 
will now be only a matter of practice and a little more 
self-confidence on my part. If only I could get over 
the absurd notion that my small son’s body is com- 


36 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


posed of nothing more osseously adamantine than a 
jellyfish, full of wriggles, we should get on famously. 

By and by I reached for my violin, which I had 
brought out with me, and began to draw the bow 
softly over the strings. M. Loyolles had sent me 
some new music from the shops. I hummed the air 
tentatively while I played, and was just becoming 
absorbed in the sweet strains when a step on the 
walk made me stop and turn abruptly. 

Yes, I was sure I knew that step. I rose awk- 
wardly, hardly knowing what I did, and proffered 
my seat with a few murmured words of greeting. 

But Howard waved away my timid civilities per- 
emptorily, and began hostilities without preamble : 

“Well, you ’ve done for yourself now, and no 
mistake !” His eyes had an ominous gleam in their 
somber depths when they rested on little Bex, who 
now lay cooing in his carriage, the strange voice and 
my music having roused him from his light nap. “I 
wonder you dared to stay here and brazen things 
out in this way ! No ; wait ! Let me finish. I know 
what you would say. Your letter went all over that; 
besides I remember enough of what you told me on 
that night when that infamous Lovell pitched into 
me, to know all you w r ould say. Oh, I believed you 
then ; I know better now. No ! It ’s useless for you 
to protest; I wouldn’t believe you under oath. Oh, 
no! Once bit, twice shy.” And he scowled blackly 
at baby and me, towering above us threateningly. 

He was much thinner than when I saw him last, 
and his eyes were hollow, with black rings round 
them; his face was deathlike in its pallor. Undoubt- 
edly he had suffered. The headaches were become 


Grayson Plays a Trump Card 37 

chronic; nurse had told me that. I judged from his 
general appearance that he was even now in the 
throes of a severe attack. Knowing of old how in- 
tensely painful they were, I forebore to excite him 
by any undue show of anger at his unjust words. 

“You are in pain, Howard; come into the house 
and lie down. This hot sun will do you no good. 
"Wait till you are better; then we will settle our differ- 
ences calmly, dispassionately. Come ! let me make 
you comfortable in your own — ” But I saw that 
he gave no heed to my words ; I doubt if he were even 
conscious that I was speaking. I saw with unspeak- 
able dread that there was a light of insanity in his 
eyes. That he had come to himself with all his old- 
time fear of a hurt to his vanity, was proved by his 
next words: 

“And my hands are tied ! That ’s what gets me — 
to think that I can’t expose you as I burn to do. No, 
I can’t face the gaff, the curious stares, the sly digs 
of the vulgar herd — those vultures that lie in wait to 
gobble up the choice morsels of gossip furnished by 
‘our first families’ — and, oh, the newspaper noriety! 
Oh, no; I ’m helpless, damn you! — perfectly helpless 
to mete out the punishment proportionate to your 
wickedness. Oh, to think that all those months while 
I lay under a cloud, brought on by your baseness — yes, 
Madam, by your baseness !— you were betraying me 
all the while ! Oh, you— you wanton! How brazenly 
you ’ve carried on your vile intrigue — and spent my 
money with a free hand all these months, too ! ’ ’ 

“Howard!” I interrupted, sternly, goaded into 
speech by his words. “I ’m not going to stay to be 
arraigned in this unjust way. I ’ve made my defense, 


38 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


and a reasonable one, too. No; don’t interrupt. 
will be heard! If you can’t see that I ’m entirely 
innocent of what you accuse me, you ’re blind indeed. 
And even if you were right in your vile suspicions, 
you would have no call to go on so virtuously. Your 
own skirts are far from clean. But that, of course, 
is not the point. You have been prejudiced against 
me, I can see that. Lady Nan — she has failed miser- 
ably in a certain plot she had against me, and takes 
this means of reprisal. Oh, she is a cunning little 
fiend! But I have nothing to do with her. About 
this money you say I ’ve spent, that is another mat- 
ter. I ’ll admit I ’ve used it freely during your ill- 
ness; your doctor’s and nurse’s bills are paid. And 
since you went to the lake I ’ve used money for house- 
hold expenses ; you left a checkbook for that purpose. 
I felt that, as I was your housekeeper, I had a right 
to so much hire as the keeping of soul and body to- 
gether required. The household has been reduced to 
fit the needs of the case, I assure you. There has been 
no unnecessary expenditure; Sukey and the cook are 
the only servants I ’ve retained. The expenses in- 
cident to my own illness — the doctor’s and nurse’s 
bills — I paid from my own private bank account (you 
know I ’ve been drawing a large salary) ; and 
I ’ve also paid for all the clothing for myself and 
baby — ” 

“Oh, you bold, brazen hussy! You — you — oh, 
there are no words strong enough to voice my disgust ! 
You dare to stand there and calmly discuss the odious 
details of your shame — ” 

“Yes, I dare!” I broke in, peremptorily. “I 
have done no wrong. I dare all with the courage of 


Grayson Plays a Trump Card 39 

conscious rectitude to bear me up. No vilifying 
tongue, though it ran on eternally, could make me 
aught but a miserable pawn of fate, undeserving of 
blame because absolutely helpless to extricate myself 
from the plight in which I ’m placed. Oh, I Ve 
fought out this thing with bitter tears. I — it has 
been given me to see at last that I need abase myself 
before no one — ” 

“Be quiet! will you? and give me a chance to 
say my say. Who cares for your virtuous clack? 
What I want to know is what right you have to 
discharge my servants? People will be saying I Ve 
had losses on the Cotton Exchange, the first thing 
I know.” 

“Well, I Ve done the best I could/ ’ I told him, 
wearily, beginning to see that in his present mood 
nothing I could say or do would please him. His 
eyes shone with an uncanny light; his whole expres- 
sion, in fact, indicated that the pain he suffered 
goaded him to the very borders of insanity. 

I gathered up the odds and ends of sewing, my 
violin and book of songs, and laid them in the car- 
riage beside baby. 

“I ’m going in now; we can’t seem to get any- 
where in our talk. I will not trouble you with my 
presence much longer; I leave shortly with the opera 
company to begin a summer engagement. Then our 
stormy travesty on married life will be over ; you can 
get a divorce readily for desertion. I shall not con- 
test it. It will be no trouble. You could stay in 
the West awhile, and no one in New Orleans will be 
the wiser as to our affairs — ” 

But he took the handle of the carriage out of 


40 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


my hands and began to wheel it toward the house, 
weakly, unsteadily. 

“I will take charge, if you please/ ’ he announced, 
ironically. “I ’ve not half seen my offspring yet. 
He ’s my son, you know ; to all intents and purposes, 
at least. The law will award him to me, of course, 
when I obtain that divorce you have planned out so 
glibly with never a say-so for me. Ah! that catches 
you on the raw, does it ? Good ! Then we can begin 
to understand one another. Now you listen to me. 
I don’t intend to get into a nine-days’ scandal in 
the off-hand way you ’ve doped out. Not me ! You 
will stay right here on the job if you know what ’s 
good for you and this little spawn of yours. He ’s 
mine ; do you hear ? Mine ! The laws of Louisiana 
are strict on this subject; you have no right to him 
in law — none! You are in my power at last — the 
child ! the child ! At last I have a means of revenge 
ready to my hand. No, sir-ee, Ma’am! You ’ll not 
take him away. I ’ll get out an injunction first. Oh, 
it ’s rich to feel my power ! ’ ’ And Howard shook the 
carriage till little Rex screamed in fright. 

I snatched him up and fled along the path in a 
panic, for the insane flash in the quasi-invalid’s eyes 
warned me that it would not be safe to discuss our 
affairs further till the maddening pain had left him 
and the first paroxysms of anger over the tragedy 
our life together had become, was passed over. 


CHAPTER V 


Nell Plans Her Flight 

Alone in my room, I stilled my little Rex’s piteous 
wails as best I could. My tears mingled with the 
babe’s when I realized the full significance of How- 
ard’s threats. Was it true that he had power to take 
the child away from me? I had known all along, of 
course, that in the eyes of the law my little Rex 
would be Howard’s child; but that the law of the 
State would repudiate a mother’s claim to her child 
was too monstrous a thing to have entered my head. 
Might not Howard be trying to frighten me? I 
never dreamed that he would claim the child; that 
he would try to separate us, as he threatened — nay, 
as I saw clearly he meant to do when the time to act 
came; his purpose was but too thinly veiled. 

What could I do? How should I be able to cope 
with this fresh complication? Oh, if I had but Deane’s 
practical common sense to lean upon ! My wits seemed 
sadly befuddled by the suddenness of the blow. 

I laid baby down softly, for he slept at last; and 
while I tidied up the room a bit tried to study out 
some plan of escape that would be feasible. I must 
get away as soon as possible; that was clear. How- 
ard’s mind would become completely unbalanced if 
he saw us every day, I feared. The babe’s life — my 
own, too — would not be safe if he didn’t change 
speedily and become less bitter in his thoughts of us. 

41 


42 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


The repeated blows on the head were taking a fearful 
toll already. We must not add to the trouble. Yes, 
we must leave the house, and that at once, if possible. 

I didn’t go down to dinner, but had something 
light sent up; and then, afterward, I had a little 
talk with my faithful Sukey. 

I told her very little — only that Mr. Grayson had 
come back from the hospital in a very agitated state ; 
that he was angry because no one had told him of 
baby’s birth; that he threatened to take the child 
away from me; that, in short, he was not himself — 
was jealous of the child (which I more than half 
suspected was the case) ; that she (Sukey) must help 
me in a little plan I had been thinking over, while 
I ate a bite or two. 

“Laws, Missy, I done seen a heap o’ folks lak 
dat,” averred Sukey, her black eyes rolling round 
toward Rex’s crib. She took him up by and by and, 
while we talked, made him ready, deftly, for the 
night. What should I do without her? We would 
miss her kind offices when we were gone. 

“There is only one way, I believe, to evade Mr. 
Grayson,” I told her, outlining my little plot briefly. 

“Laws, Missy, how come yo’ all don’ jes nachelly 
git up an’ dust, ’mejiately? Not dat I wants to hesi- 
tate to yo’ all, Missy, but ’peahs to me de soonah 
yo’ all mek yo’sef sea ’ace de bettah,” and the faith- 
ful soul glanced fearfully round toward the door. 

She had a wholesome respect for Howard’s tem- 
per, having on several occasions incurred his sharp 
displeasure for some trivial offense. 

“ ’T ain’t safe, Missy! Doggone my ole brack 
hide ef hit am!” 


Grayson Plays a Trump Card 43 

“But, Sukey, I daren’t venture now — to-night. 
Oh, no ! He would bring us back. He ’s on the look- 
out. I Ve heard his footstep on the stair more than 
once. Oh, no ; my way is best. Besides, there is much 
to arrange first. I must pack up a box, for I can 
take little with me when I leave the house, of course. 
The box can be called for somehow, and sent to an 
address I T1 leave with you.” 

And soon we were busy selecting the necessaries. 
My music went in, of course, and my violin, which 
Sukey had brought up with the carriage when she 
found them abandoned in the garden. My jewels 
I could get when I cashed my check for the amount 
I had in the bank, to-morrow. 

While we worked hurriedly, but quietly, Sukey 
told me of a plan of her own for getting out of 
the city unnoticed, which at once appealed to my 
judgment, and I resolved to adopt her suggestions. 
It seemed she had a brother who was steward on one 
of the steamers plying between New Orleans and 
the Jetties, who at a word from her would take me 
on board and hide me till the vessel was well on 
its way south. This would allow me to escape the 
risk I had dreaded to run at the railway terminals 
or the booking offices of the boats. These were the 
first places Howard would make for when he dis- 
covered my flight. No doubt he would figure that 
I had gone to join the opera company and would 
follow as soon as a trace of my movements could 
be found. 

But I had given up my engagement now, natu- 
rally. It would be folly to expect to remain hidden 
long if I kept to my first plans. 


44 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 

1 ‘No; I had formed no plans for the future,” I 
told Sukey when she asked me about them just be- 
fore she left me to see her brother and arrange the 
other details of escape. “ I must get away; that is 
all I can think about just now. There will be plenty 
of time later to make up my mind what to do. I Ve 
plenty of money for all my present needs ; and there 
are my jewels, too. Oh, I shall do very well,” I 
ended, hopefully. 

I slept little that night; and baby, too, was rest- 
less, starting from a perfectly sound sleep several 
times with a whimper of nervous fear. I was obliged 
to take him from his crib at last and hush him to 
sleep once more. He seemed satisfied the moment 
I took him up, and left off fretting at once, to sink 
to sleep cradled in my arms, for I kept him in my 
bed for the rest of the night. 

“Blessed little sleeper!” I murmured, softly, 
stroking the tangle of curls away from the white 
brow. One little pink fist clutched one of my fingers 
tightly, as though even in sleep he needed the as- 
surance of my presence. 

“Oh, to think that such danger menaced the 
child! But Howard should not take him away. No, 
no! I would fight as long as there was breath in 
my body for my boy. 

Oh, the beauty and sweetness of the little face! 
The soft, satin roundness of the dazzlingly fair cheeks 
aglow with the rosy flush of perfect health ! How I 
rejoiced in the nearness of the pliant little body 
thrilling with radiant vitality! Oh, the wonder, the 
mystery of a babe’s life! I marveled over it all for 
the hundredth time. And he was mine! mine! 


Grayson Plays a Trump Card 45 

exulted, wonderingly, thankfully. I could never 
again feel so dreadfully alone in the world with him 
to plan and work for. I felt the loss of Deane bit- 
terly, of course. My soul clave to his with stubborn 
tenacity in spite of valiant efforts to struggle against 
what I felt to be wrong. My heart was strangely 
heavy despite the new interest Baby had brought into 
my life. There were blue days to fight; but I never 
failed to hope for strength to win out eventually. 

How I wished the next twenty-four hours were 
over! I realized fully how helpless I really was — 
how much I was at the mercy of the man who had 
announced such fearsome intentions toward me and 
the child. Suppose I should fail in the undertaking 
I had set for to-morrow? What should I do then? 
For Howard would certainly set some one to watch 
and report every movement, just so surely as I showed 
my hand. 

I tried to put the whole wretched coil out of my 
mind and get some rest; but sleep was a coy goddess, 
and refused to be easily won, eluding every guile 
known to the art for a long time. It must have 
been very late when I dozed off, at last, and my 
rest was broken by wild dreams of continual struggles 
with an unknown enemy. 

It was still early when I waked. Some birds were 
making merry under the eaves, anon breaking forth 
into glad paeans to the fair, new day, fresh from 
Aurora’s rosy hands. Little Rex had squirmed off 
my arm long ago and now lay with his blue eyes 
wide open; the outflung, restless little arms waving 
incessantly in sheer joy of living ; the kicking motions 
of the rosy feet that had defied the confining slip 


46 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


made a picture to glad a mother’s heart, however sore 
with the cares of life it might he. The absolute un- 
consciousness of the child to the danger that menaced 
us appealed to me with sickening force, all at once. 

I sprang up, dressed myself, and began feverishly 
to carry out my plan of campaign. Passivity was 
not to my taste when the call to action was so loud, 
so imperative, and there was so much to be done. 

I must take down Lady Nan’s marriage lines as 
soon as possible. No one was astir in the house as 
yet; I should just have time for it. I went into the 
little sewing-room adjoining and stood looking up at 
the ceiling. Yes, there was the corner; I couldn’t 
mistake it. I had adjusted the border slightly awry 
in spite of all my care that day, months ago; but 
it was not specially noticeable. A casual observer 
would have found nothing amiss. 

I looked round for something high enough to bring 
me within working distance, but found nothing that 
suited me. Then, all at once, I remembered the step- 
ladder the scrub-woman had left in the hall outside 
the door of the boudoir. I was sure I had seen it 
when I came up in the evening. If only it had been 
forgotten, as sometimes happened! It would be the 
very thing. I hurried through the bedroom, turned 
the key, and tried to open the door leading into the 
boudoir; but it resisted strangely. I shook it gently, 
then more forcibly; but it refused to budge, and I 
comprehended at last that the bolt on the boudoir 
side of the door had been shot home. 

So I was right, then. Any attempt to fly during 
the night would have been futile, as I had foreseen. 

I lifted baby from the bed and placed him in 


Grayson Plays a Trump Card 47 

his little go-cart that I had had Sukey bring up the 
night before, and wheeled him into the sewing-room. 
I must have him near me. It would not do to risk 
a surprise while I was perched on top of the ladder 
I must now improvise. 

After I had locked the door I drew the high chif- 
fonier which I used for baby’s things up to a point 
directly beneath the doctored-up border, placed a 
chair on top of it, and a footstool upon the chair — • 
for the ceiling was rather high ; then I mounted first 
to a chair nearby; thence to the toilet-table I had 
fetched from a distant corner, and so scrambled on 
up to the chiffonier, whence it was easy to mount the 
chair, then the footstool. I held on like grim death 
to the massive picture-molding with one hand, while 
I whipped out a small pair of scissors I had stuck 
in my belt, and made tentative passes with it along 
the point of least resistance, so that I might accom- 
plish my purpose with as little damage as possible. 
The fact that the room had been tinted before How- 
ard decided to have it papered, was all in my favor. 
The border gave easily at the lower edge. With a 
little care I managed to lift it away from the picture- 
molding. By inserting two fingers I contrived to 
draw the concealed document down to where I could 
get enough of a purchase on it to draw it forth. I 
soon had the satisfaction of tucking it securely in 
my bodice and turned to descend, after adjusting the 
border so that all was smooth once more. 

But at that moment a slight sound in the next 
room caught my ear; a distinctly audible murmur 
it was, but cautious withal. I hastened my move- 
ments, reaching the floor after a dizzy qualm or two, 


48 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


took down the various properties that had been needed 
in the one-act’ drama I had been playing, and, after 
a hasty glance to see that no disarray betokened the 
nature of the piece, took baby in my arms, and after 
a moment’s intent listening unlocked the the door 
and peeped into my bedroom. 

The door leading into the boudoir was ajar, but 
no one was in sight. I advanced into the room boldly, 
then, and sat down to feed baby, who was fretting 
half-heartedly by this time at the delay to his break- 
fast. 

I thought I had recognized Howard’s voice in that 
low-toned murmur, but could not be sure, of course. 
The logical deduction was that he had come to see 
if all was as it should be, and that, finding no one 
there, he had muttered to himself, as he had a habit 
of doing, fearing I had got away, after all. My move- 
ments in the next room must have reassured him 
speedily, whereupon he left at once, easy in his mind. 
So I explained the circumstance, at any rate. 


CHAPTER VI 


The Working Out of the Plan 

Sukey came in with my breakfast temptingly 
spread out on a tray while I was going over my plan 
of escape and calculating the chances for and against 
the scheme as laid out in my mind. She tiptoed back 
to the door and shut it softly; then she came close 
to me and by a few significant gestures gave me to 
understand that Howard was in the hall nearby, and 
we must be careful what we said. 

I laid down my little burden, now sleeping soundly 
again, and drew up my chair to get the necessary 
business of eating over with as expeditiously as 
might be. 

We talked in cautious undertones, Sukey and I. 
Everything was in readiness, she told me. Her part 
of the business was all arranged ; the boat left at two 
o’clock this afternoon, as she had thought; her 
brother would be on the lookout for me at the 
landing. 

The trunk we had packed had been taken down 
the back stairs to Sukey ’s basement room last night. 
She had induced a friend of hers, who gathered up 
rags, to lend his outfit to Alec, who would call for 
the trunk by and by and ship it to a friend of mine 
in St. Paul, to whom I had still to write concern- 
ing it. 

I must send Sukey to the stores and the bank 
4 49 


50 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


this morning; for I now saw it would be impossible 
to go myself. Sukey was well known at the bank, 
having a bank account of her own — an unexpected 
legacy, I believe. There would be no difficulty if 
I made the check payable to her, though the amount 
was rather large; and an order for the jewels would 
suffice, too, I judged. 

Sukey went below after she had set the room to 
rights, while I wrote my letters: one to the friend 
about my trunk, and another to Manager Loyolles, 
giving up my engagement with him. 

The morning hours dragged slowly by. My let- 
ters written and placed in Sukey ’s charge, I bathed 
my boy and made his toilet. Then it was time to 
go down and keep Howard occupied in the front part 
of the house while Alec conveyed my trunk out 
through the courtyard to the quaint, two-wheeled 
mule-cart in waiting on the side street upon which 
the courtyard gave. 

It was very difficult to talk to Howard. He had 
the gruffest of answers to my questions concerning 
his head; but I could see for myself that he was 
much better, though he lolled on the couch in a 
decided fit of the sulks during my stay. I left him 
with relief at a summons from Sukey, who appeared 
in the hall all ready for her shopping expedition; 
her tranquil face assured me that all had gone off well. 

I busied myself with a few last things, and by 
and by, after a bite of lunch — for there would be no 
time for it at the usual hour — I took baby for a turn 
in the garden to say farewell to all my favorite 
haunts: the little pergola, the seat under the mag- 
nolia tree, the rose terrace with its wealth of fragrant 


Grayson Plays a Trump Card 51 

blooms, and the violet and pansy borders in the far 
corner. I had passed some happy hours here ; Deane 
had hallowed the place for me. He too loved it. 
Oh, no ; I should never forget this old garden, though 
it was associated with some despairing hours, too. I 
caught sight, at last, of my husband’s sinister face 
peering at us from the library window, and with a 
final look round made my way back to the house 
to await Sukey’s return. 

She came at last, after what seemed a weary time 
of waiting. She had with her the friend, with her 
young baby (a bright-eyed pickaninny about Rex’s 
age), whom I had commissioned Sukey to bring. To- 
gether we dressed her up in some garments that could 
be readily recognized as mine. The baby I tricked 
out in some of Rex’s things, selecting a cap and cloak 
which I laid aside till they were ready to leave the 
house. 

Then I finished my own preparations, disposed 
the money and jewels safely, and opened the bundle 
Sukey had brought. 

“Have you engaged the carriage? It will stop 
for you around the corner ? ” I wanted to know, while 
I darkened my face and neck with the brown stain 
I used when making up for “Aiada” at the theater. 

“ ’Deed yas, Missy; it ’s done been standin’ dere 
dis good while. Oh, we ’ll lead Mars Grayson a 
merry chase, I ’se gwine tell yo’. Ef he cotches us 
I ’se a Dutchman!” And Sukey displayed a row of 
ivory, and hitched at a refractory button with a de- 
termined air ; for my prospective double was of 
rather more heroic proportions — in circumference, at 
least — than the dress was designed for. But with a 


52 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


little patience and perseverance she finally got the 
girl, a beautiful quadroon, almost white, into the 
skirt and jacket of my pongee suit. The hat went 
on next, with a thick veil that I had often worn ; and 
it would have taken a very keen observer, indeed, 
to notice any discrepancy. 

I wound the turban kerchief I found in the bundle, 
round my head, hiding my ears and hair. I had put 
on the dress (a hideous checked gingham) some time 
before, and I flattered myself I made a proper-looking 
colored woman, especially when I got the huge mar- 
ket-basket with the double lids that Sukey had 
brought up, on my arm. 

I took little Rex, who was sleeping his customary 
sound mid-day nap, and, with Sukey ’s help, placed 
him in the big basket. He opened his eyes and stirred 
uneasily, for we had to turn him into a letter “S” 
nearly to get him under the lid and down onto the 
pile of necessaries with which I had stocked the 
basket. His little down pillow and blanket made a 
comfortable enough couch, and he sighed off to sleep 
again shortly. 

My moneys and jewels were safely bestowed in 
my bodice, along with the marriage lines of Lady Nan. 

It was now close upon half-after one. Howard 
would be nearing his dessert by this time before the 
open window which commanded a view of the ban- 
quette along which Sukey and her charges must pass. 
The time was most propitious for our little coup. 
Howard would be forced to hunt for his hat, when 
he discovered what was doing, before he could follow ; 
and as he was forever mislaying it, my fellow-con- 
spirators could, by a little maneuvering, manage to 


Grayson Plays a Trump Card 53 

be seen by Howard at the psychological moment when 
they entered the carriage. 

“But suppose Mr. Grayson by some chance fails 
to see you through the window, Sukey? He may be 
absorbed in his paper or something, ’ ’ I worried, as the 
crucial moment approached. We were advancing 
cautiously down the back stairs, Sukey and I, as I 
spoke, where I was to take refuge in Sukey ’s room 
till I saw Howard vanish round the corner of the 
house in pursuit of his quarry. 

“Nev* min’, Missy; don’ yo’ fret. I done fix 
dat all up,” soothed that efficient soul. “Min’ de 
step, honey. Doggone dis dark hall, anyway! Dere. 
See dat? Young Rastus squeal lak a stuck pig ef 
he git dat outen his brack mouth till hit all done 
et up. Yo’ all jes’ wait! Dis he ’ah movin’ pictuah 
show am gwine troo ’cordin’ to schetchal; you des 
wait.” And nodding sagely, she waved before my 
anxious eyes a stick of gay-hued taffy, while I sank 
into a rocker, feeling all at once weak and discour- 
aged lest some hitch should occur to spoil everything 
at the last minute. 

“Don’ yo’ all lose heart, my lamb. Sho! Is dat 
de way to ca ’y on ? Dry yo ’ tea ’hs, honey. See, baby 
am sleep in’ lak a lamb in his basket.” 

“Oh, Sukey, it isn’t that, altogether; but I feel 
so alone. How can I say good-bye to you ? How can 
I thank you for all you ’ve done for me? I can’t — 
there! — I feel better after my little moan,” dashing 
the tears away determinedly. “Remember to look 
in the lock-box, as I arranged, for word from me, 
and don ’t stay here any longer than just to pack 
up your things. Oh, I ’m leaving you a sad legacy 


54 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


of ill-will, I fear. Mr. Grayson will be furious — ” 
And I stopped, anxiously. 

“Sho ! Do n’ yo’ all fret. I kin tek ca’ah o’ my- 
se’f. Jes’ let him try awn anny o’ his monkey-shines, 
doggone him. I ’ll spile his face fo’ him, aye gum! 
But, honey, I wisht I ’se gwine wid yo ’. I tole Mistah 
Lovell ’at I sho’ nuff ’ud tek ca’ah o’ yo’ — ” 

“Oh, I know, Sukey; you wanted to go all along. 
But it ’s not feasible. You must go with Jess (the 
quadroon) and help to mislead Mr. Grayson. You 
will be helping me more that way than any other. I 
couldn’t have carried out my plan, in fact, without 
you. Good-bye, my faithful girl, and God bless you ! ’ ’ 
“Good-bye, honey, good-bye! Tek good ca’ah o’ 
the boy!” And she wrung my hand hard, then fled 
precipitately, but not before I caught sight of the 
tears that coursed down her kind, black face. How 
I should miss her! 

I could hear her heavy tread hastening up the 
stairs, and soon a murmur of voices sounding dis- 
tinctly from the back hall told me that they were 
already proceeding down the front stairs. 

The moment of action had come. I stationed my- 
self before the little window which overlooked the 
route they must take on their way to the side street 
where the carriage waited. 

There, that was the front door closing, surely! 
How fearfully loud it sounded in the quiet house! 
Yes, there they were; Sukey slightly in the rear, and 
even from this distance I could see the expression of 
careless bonhomie on her sable face as she paced non- 
chalantly along (astonishing me by this display of 
histrionic talent), carrying little Rastus, who even as 


Grayson Plays a Trump Card 55 

I watched lifted up his voice and howled lustily as 
per schedule. 

It was well that Howard was unfamiliar with 
Rex’s more subdued little wail, or this dramatic in- 
cident would have failed in its object miserably. But 
baby, being a most solemn, phelgmatic little man, 
had been good as usual (indeed, he seldom cried) 
since Howard had come home. 

Would Howard suspect the ruse and refuse to 
“fall for it?” I waited anxiously for the next move, 
scarcely breathing in my suspense. Hark! Was that 
the front door again? I craned my neck out of the 
window as far as I dared. Yes, there he scuttled, 
settling his hat on his head; his coat-tails flying 
straight out at an angle of forty-five degrees as he 
ran. 

I waited for no more ; but, catching up the basket, 
closed the lid on the sleeping baby, and fled out 
through the kitchen, adjoining, and on through the 
courtyard, scandalizing the new cook, who paused 
in her task of peeling vegetables for the dinner soup, 
her knife in midair, her mouth agape at the sudden 
apparition of a stranger making so free with her 
neat kitchen. 

“He ’ah, you yaller wench! Clear out o’ he ’ah!” 
was her superfluous injunction. ‘ 4 De idee ! ” I heard 
her grumble to the scrub-woman, who was scouring 
tins in an adjacent corner. “De idee! I don’ feel 
dat I ’se gwine ’zactly tek a shine to dis job. Did 
yo’ all evah he ’ah tell o’ such goin’s awn?” 

I was out of hearing by this time, speeding out 
through the court-yard gate, where I bumped full 
tilt into Alexander. 


56 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


4 ‘What de debble! Yo’ good-fo ’-nothin ’ niggah! 
How come yo’ all don’ look whe’ah yo’ gwine,” he 
began; then stopped abruptly after a second look. 
“Oh, ’scuse me, honey! Begs yo’ all’s pahdon, Miss, 
Ma’am. ’Low me to tote dat basket for yo’ all,” at 
the same time accompanying his would-be silvery ac- 
cents by a tentative attempt to chuck me under the 
chin, by which I perceived that Alec was up to his 
old tricks again. But I eluded his gallantries, well 
pleased that he had failed to recognize me, and sped 
on along the side street upon which the courtyard 
gave, toward St. Charles Avenue, across which I must 
pass to Camp Street, where I proposed to get a car 
for the levee. 

As I neared the St. Charles Street corner my heart 
seemed to stop beating, my knees trembled so that 
I could scarcely walk; but nevertheless I kept on 
(though more and more slowly), through some 
blessed sub-conscious action of the mind, I ’m sure; 
for I was too frightened to reason clearly. 


CHAPTER YII 


An Unexpected Check 

For there, not thirty yards distant, stood Howard, 
gesticulating wildly in my direction! 

Was it all really over, my desperate bolt for lib- 
erty? My frantic attempt to keep my little Rex 
from the threatening vengeance of the man who called 
himself my husband ? What had happened ? By this 
time I had expected a clear field. Was there no way 
to elude him? Must I go back into bondage once 
more after the great hope that had whispered of an 
humble little home in some out-of-the-way corner of 
the — I looked round wildly. 

A cab approached lazily just behind me, the driver 
rolling up a casual cigarette, the lines lying slack 
upon his horses’ sleek backs, while a cheery whistle 
puckered up the full lips of the sable-hued son of 
Ham. A mad impulse seized me, and I was about to 
invoke the aid of the cabman in one more desperate 
dash for liberty. 

But before I could open my lips or arrest my me- 
chanical steps, Howard ’s voice broke in, impatiently : 

‘ ‘ Hi, there ! Look alive ! What the devil do you 
mean by poking along like this when a gentleman 
is signaling to you?” 

The driver jumped down and opened the cab-door 
with an obsequious flourish. 

“Follow the cab you ’ll see as soon as you turn 
57 


58 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


here ! ’ * pointing np the street with trembling fingers. 
“One hundred bones if you keep it in sight; double 
that amount if you catch up with it,” and Howard 
jumped in, slamming the door shut with never a 
glance at the humble pseudo market-woman who 
passed so near that he almost brushed her garments 
in his haste. 

But I had kept my eyes studiously upon my 
basket till the cab, now driven furiously, turned the 
corner on two wheels. Farther up I could see Sukey’s 
carriage standing by the curb, the driver adjusting 
the harness casually. This was, without doubt, an- 
other ruse of Sukey’s to draw Howard on. But this 
one came near being fatal to my purpose. 

If Howard had not forestalled me with the cab- 
man so opportunely; if I had done anything but 
walk carelessly along, his attention might have been 
attracted, to my certain undoing. I trembled vio- 
lently while I watched the distant cabman mount 
the box and whip up his horses; a half block away 
Howard’s cab rolled pell-mell after it. The race was 
on with a will. 

I was nearly across St. Charles Avenue by this 
time. I quickened my steps, and soon halted at Camp 
Street, signaled a passing car, boarded it, and sank 
down upon a seat thankful to rest after my hasty 
walk. But not for long ; the conductor soon came up 
and hustled me to a rear seat with ungentle hand. 
In my excitement I had forgotten my stained face 
and the tell-tale garb which proclaimed my station 
one with the colored contingency that must take its 
place humbly behind the quality. I leaned back upon 
my seat and closed my eyes, my face burning, be- 


Grayson Plays a Trump Card 59 

neath its stain, under the curious, resentful glances 
of the dominant “ white folks.” 

I was utterly spent with the fatigues and emotions 
with which the last half hour had been surcharged. 
Oh, how I blessed the happy thought that had made 
me use the transforming stain and humble disguise ! 
And if I had hesitated an instant in my movements, 
or made some false one, Howard’s attention might 
have been drawn my way, and the ending of the 
little drama would undoubtedly have been quite dif- 
ferent. But some power outside myself seemed to 
inform my every motion (mechanical, unconscious, 
they seemed to me) during that crucial moment. I 
reviewed the scene with many a shudder over the 
narrow escape I had had. 

A rough touch on my arm made me jump pro- 
digiously at this point. 

1 ‘Far as we go! Now, then, get a move on yo’, 
there ! 9 9 announced the conductor in an off-hand voice, 
which puzzled me till I realized that it was addressed 
to the supposed colored woman. I kept forgetting 
my identity in the most bewildering way, never fail- 
ing to start tremendously every time a harsh com- 
mand fell upon my ears. What a revelation this 
great gulf forever fixed between the races was to me ! 
I had always found the various employees in New 
Orleans so gentlemanly, so deferential. This de- 
cidedly harsh treatment opened my eyes to the vast 
difference it made to belong to the black race. I regis- 
tered a vow of thankfulness for my Caucasian blood, 
to which I had hitherto never given a thought. 

I threaded my way in and out among some bar- 
rels of sorghum and bales of cotton that still lined 


60 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


the wharf late as the season was. I had left the 
regular road which led directly to the shipping, and 
struck across obliquely, hoping to escape notice more 
easily this less frequented way. I stopped to rest 
presently, for the basket was heavy and the sun very 
hot. I glanced at my watch; it wanted a half hour 
yet to the time of my appointment with the steward 
of the boat. I peeped surreptitiously at poor little 
Rex. He was still asleep, but so warm that little 
beads of perspiration stood out on his forehead. 

I gave a cautious glance around and noted for the 
first time that the levee was unusually deserted, a 
strange circumstance at this hour, when busy dock- 
hands were wont to ply in and out, to and from the 
shipping. I remembered all at once that I had not 
met a soul. So, leaving the lid of the basket open, 
I resumed my way. 

The boat I was seeking lay farther up, or down 
rather (I never could get used to the directions of 
this river town) north, it was really, in order to reach 
the steamer that would be a welcome refuge; for I 
was beginning to feel the effects of the fatigue and 
excitement of the day. I was obliged to stop to rest 
every hundred yards or so; for the basket, being 
stocked with some of baby’s things and a change or 
two of clothing for myself, was getting heavier every 
minute, it seemed to me. 

The unusually deserted wharf disquieted me; my 
supersensitive intuition feared the least deviation 
from established rule on this day of days to me. 

At this moment I rounded a slight bend made by 
some larger piles of bales, and my attention was 
caught at once by a large crowd of excited people, 


Grayson Plays a Trump Card 61 

men and boys, principally, with a sprinkling of 
women on the outskirts, about a block distant. Evi- 
dently something out of the ordinary was going on 
there. 

‘ ‘ Why, it looks like a fire ! ’ ’ I exclaimed, involun- 
tarily, for even as I watched a column of smoke rose 
black against the shipping just beyond on the river 
side of the crowd. I could see some smoke stacks 
and ensigns dimly through the fast-thickening haze. 
Yes, it was a fire. My heart sank a little inexplicably. 
Was it intuition again? I hastened my steps, my 
fatigue dropping from me like a garment; for a 
sickening fear gripped at me. 

Was this a fresh trouble? Suppose it should be 
the Jennie Lee f A few minutes ’ walking sufficed to 
bring me in touch with the stragglers. 

1 ‘What boat is it?” I asked some little rag-a-muf- 
fins who approached from the scene of the fire and 
were hustling by me, their eyes fixed on something 
in the direction from which I had come. 

“The Jennie Lee f of the Jetties,” one of them 
shouted, without taking his eyes from the point of 
interest. 

“Wheel Look it, look it, kids!” he shrieked, ex- 
citedly. “Look it — dere comes de injines! An’ 
dere ’s de hook an’ ladder, boys! Look at de speed, 
boys! Jimminee crickets, look at ’em go! Beat it, 
beat it while yo’ shoes ah good!” And we all ran 
swiftly to the right out of the path before the appa- 
ratus swept by with a deafening rattle and clang. 

“I reckon dey ain’ some class to dat bunch, huh?” 
And away the lads scampered, gleefully, making 
high holiday over what was the death of hope to me. 


62 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


I stood motionless for a few minutes, stunned by 
this new blow. 

Well, it was about time for another check. Things 
had moved off too smoothly altogether up to this, I 
thought, miserably, changing the basket from the 
left to the right arm. I walked on again mechan- 
ically, stepping over lines of hose, elbowing my way 
through the crowd till I reached the lower side; 
though what I hoped to gain I know not. There was 
nothing I was conscious of on the farther side that 
promised help in my dire strait. I was dazed, in- 
capable of reasoning clearly; my one instinct being 
to get as far from home as possible, to keep moving; 
it mattered not where I brought up, indeed I knew 
not where to go since the ground had been so cruelly 
cut from under my feet. 

The roar of the flames, which had made great 
headway by this time; the shouts of the firemen, 
coupled with those of officious by-standers; the beat 
of the engines as they performed their work, inter- 
mingled confusedly with my despairing thoughts. I 
moved like one in a dream; something seemed to 
draw me inexplicably to the lower side. The smoke 
blew toward me suffocatingly now; some cinders fell 
nearby ; I hastened my steps, elbowed my way through 
the press, unmindful of the imprecations of the fire- 
fighters and the rougher element in the crowd, who 
threw slurs and oaths at the poor black woman who 
thrust herself thus unceremoniously among the white 
folks. 

I found purer air lower down, and after walking 
considerably to the north, on looking back I could 
plainly discern the name Jennie Lee on the doomed 


Grayson Plays a Trump Card 63 

craft. Men in bine uniforms were climbing about 
on the upper, lower, and middle decks plying sheets 
of water. 

It was true, then, it really was the Jennie Lee. 
I realized all at once that it was for this I had held 
so tenaciously on my way northward — that I might 
see for myself that all hope was irrevocably gone. I 
turned away sick at heart, unable to bear with forti- 
tude the sight of the burning vessel, walking on sub- 
consciously; for my mind was a blank, at least so 
far as blazing out a new trail for myself was con- 
cerned. 

Rex gave several half-hearted little wails at this 
point, which sounded strange coming from the re- 
cesses of the basket. I peeped inside and, keeping 
my face held carefully to one side, so that he would 
not be frightened of my dark looks, spoke to him 
reassuringly. He quieted down at once; he was al- 
ways such a sensible child and easily placated. 

In a short time I reached a quieter part of the 
quay; even the vessels moored along the deck were 
totally destitute of owners or care-takers, apparently. 
Every one had rushed off to the scene of the burning 
ship, it seemed. 

I stopped suddenly before a huge merchant vessel ; 
its vast length was oddly familiar, somehow. Yes, 
after a moment’s study I recalled when and where 
I had seen it last. In the early fall it was, while I 
was on a sight-seeing tour of the docks. And now 
the vessel was back for another cargo. My attention 
had been called to it because of its great length. Now 
it seemed about ready to put out to sea again; piles 
of cotton bales were visible through some of the holds, 


64 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 

while others revealed barrels of a size and shape that 
told me New Orleans sugar and molasses formed a 
part of the cargo. That the boat was about to clear 
I judged from the fact that there were no hoisting 
pulleys or other machinery for loading a cargo any- 
where in her environs; nor were there any waiting 
piles of merchandise; the dock about the boat was 
nearly empty. 


CHAPTER VIII 


A Sudden Inspiration 

A wild idea flashed into my head as I took in 
these preparations. I looked the ship over with new 
interest. Yes! "Why not? It was worth a try, at 
least. After all, what other course was left to me? 
My resolution was taken on the instant. I looked 
furtively to right and left. No one was near save 
a half-blind old negress, left stranded with her wares 
— a bit of refuse from the human tide that had swept 
the dock at the first alarm of fire. A thought 
struck me. 

I approached her; she sat disconsolately on an 
up-turned box, her blind old eyes straining to deter- 
mine the character of the odd customer who began 
to bargain with her for her entire supply of edibles — 
creole dainties and more substantial sandwiches. 
There was not so much left, after all. She was noth- 
ing loath; my offer, no doubt, seemed munificent in 
her eyes ; so I closed the deal at once for the lot, basket 
and all, and went on my way well pleased with my 
forethought. 

No one was about as I approached the vessel 
(a French merchantman, I judged, from the tri-color 
floating from a flagstaff above) cautiously and ven- 
tured to set a timid foot on the gang-plank. I gath- 
ered fresh courage as I advanced, treading the board 
with increasing boldness as it came to me that if 
5 65 


66 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


any one saw me, my two baskets would be reason and 
excuse sufficient for my presence there. It must 
surely be a common enough sight, in this old city 
where markets were held so religiously every morn- 
ing, to see a colored woman bringing stores aboard 
ship at this hour, especially if I were right in my 
surmise that the vessel would steam away shortly; 
there would need to be some few last things laid in, 
and there must be women of my ostensible race em- 
ployed here. 

Once fairly on board, I felt comparatively safe. 
I knew human nature well enough to be reasonably 
certain that the boat was empty; everything went to 
prove it, there being no curious heads poked out of 
convenient ports, nor from the different openings in 
the holds. No; every soul must be at the scene of 
the burning steamer farther up. The French boat 
was well to windward of the fire zone, so there was 
no danger to be apprehended in leaving her to her- 
self for awhile. 

I looked around with speculative eyes, finding 
myself decidedly at a loss in what direction to begin 
my search for a hiding-place. A smell of sugar and 
molasses pervaded the hold, and I saw great tiers 
of barrels ranged one above another to the top of 
the compartment, leaving only a narrow passage-way 
to the hatch beyond. Plainly, there was no place 
for me here. 

Up the hatchway I hurried, then; it behooved 
me to find a place to stow myself without delay; 
some one might be recalled to a sense of duty at 
any moment. Above there were bales and bales of 
cotton, all stowed compactly, with hardly space for 


Grayson Plays a Trump Card 67 

a mouse to find lodgment. There was no place for 
me here, either, I told myself. But the next moment 
I spied a tiny passage, lined with doors on either side, 
in the forward part of the hold. I walked on a 
few yards, then set my baskets down to investigate. 

Opening the first door I came to, I looked in. 
It was dark; the port-holes were closed, I judged; 
but as soon as I became somewhat accustomed to the 
gloom I made out that it must be the lavatory of 
the crew. A washstand in one corner near the door 
promised me a means of ablution and a supply of 
water if I were so fortunate as to find secret lodg- 
ment near by. 

The next few doors led into narrow rooms lined 
with bunks ; evil-smelling places enough, some of them, 
in a decidedly untidy state of disorder. I was glad 
to close the doors upon them. Some more doors a 
little farther forward proved to be locked when I 
tried to open them. They were rather better situated, 
the passage widened a bit here; there was a jog that 
added several feet to it, and beyond I could see an 
open space, where the light shone brighter. Prob- 
ably the culinary department — the caboose, as I have 
heard it called — was there, and these locked doors 
were the berths belonging to the cook and kitchen 
help, I reasoned. Some pails and pots and pans in 
the distance, across the lighted space, seemed to bear 
out this notion. 

I crossed over and began to try the doors on the 
other side of the passage, coming aft once more. For 
the first time I noticed that there were but three on 
this side. One at the extreme forward part of the 
passage; and then, a considerable distance away, 


68 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


aft, another door broke the monotony of the blank 
wall. Both doors were locked, and I surmised that 
these were the storerooms and pantries. Farther on 
there was another door at the end of the passage 
where the jog was — a door a good deal smaller than 
any of the others. When I opened it I saw at once 
that this was the lumber-room of the ship ; for it was 
filled with miscellaneous articles, which strewed the 
floor at the farther end in such profusion that I picked 
my way through them with the utmost difficulty to 
a second door in the rear. It yielded readily to my 
hand, and I found that it gave into a smaller apart- 
ment, so dark that I could see nothing for a minute. 
But after I became accustomed to the gloom I dis- 
covered what looked like a port-hole nearby. I crossed 
the room — yes, it was a port-hole. I raised the lid 
with some trouble; it had evidently not been moved 
for some time. The wind blew in refreshingly, and 
I breathed it gratefully, for the air of the place was 
rather musty; the light was welcome, too, and I soon 
spied another port, which I opened also, and soon 
a circulation of air made breathing more endurable. 
This room was in much the same condition as the 
outer one, but with more unoccupied spaces; more- 
over the various objects scattered about on the tables 
and chairs, and the undisturbed dust which covered 
everything, proclaimed it a trashroom in little use. 

I looked round reflectively. 

“I really believe it will do,” I muttered, survey- 
ing with satisfaction the odds and ends of furniture 
that stood about in various stages of dilapidation. 
There was a table, and some chairs, too, huddled to- 
gether in one corner just anyhow. They were plainly 


Grayson Plays a Trump Card 69 

on their last legs, wobbling dangerously when I put 
a testing hand on them. Some old sail-cloth in urgent 
need of repair, thrown down carelessly in a corner, 
promised me a couch for the nights. I lifted it tenta- 
tively, shook it out, and turned it other side to. 

“Not so bad; I really can be quite comfortable 
when I arrange it smoothly,’ ’ suiting the action to 
the word. “Yes, I can make it do,” I murmured 
again, when I saw the bolt on the inside of the door, 
which would guard against surprise at least. 

But here the voice of little Rex, raised in wailing 
protest, sounded from without. I hastened back to 
him at once. . 

“There, there! Mother’s poor ’ittle man! Did 
him fink her was never coming back? There; don’t 
cry ; mother ’s here ! ” I soothed him back to tran- 
quillity once more, casting fearful glances up and 
down all the while. 

Was that a step on the lower hatch stairs? With- 
out waiting to make sure I sped along the passage as 
fast as my two burdens would allow, and soon reached 
the little room, shooting the bolt home with trembling 
fingers. 

And none too soon, as it turned out. I had just 
lifted baby out of his basket and was proceeding, 
with one hand to adjust a cotton blanket over the 
rearranged tarpaulin in the corner, preparatory to 
propping him up so he could amuse himself looking 
round, when I distinctly heard footsteps approaching 
outside in the passage. I had left the door of the 
outer storeroom on the jar. 

“Naw, it wan’t de cat, I tells yo’; hit soun’ 
’zactly lak a baby cryin’,” I heard a voice insisting. 


70 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


I held my breath, then sped over to Rex noise- 
lessly, to quiet him if he should show signs of rest- 
lessness. 

“Aw, go awn! Yo’ trolley’s often de wiah!” 
struck in another voice, to my infinite relief. “It 
teas de cat ! Dere she am dis minute. No, not he ’ah, 
Niggah; ovah neah de cook’s bunk.” 

“Some fiah, dat air, I ’se gwin tell you’,” re- 
turned the other, and from the sound of the voice 
I knew the speaker had advanced into the lumber- 
room. “Yas, de Jennie Lee done made hu’ah las’ trip, 
I reckon.” There followed a tremendous upheaval 
among the heterogeneous collection in the corner near 
my door. 

“Whe’ah am dat box ob candles, anyways? I 
done put it he ’ah myse’f, su’ah. Aw, doggone it, 
git a move on yo’ all, cain’t yo’, an’ help me tote 
dis box off fum he ’ah. I jist rec’lect dis minute — I 
stuck ’em undeh de tarpaulin he ’ah, and shove de 
box atop ob ’t. Come awn, jes’ take a few, an’ some 
matches, an’ le ’s git away an’ shoot some craps ’fore 
de cap’n gits back; ’n ’en to-night we kin light up 
aftah we turn in an’ have ’nothah shy. What d’ yo’ 
say?” 

A murmur in the soft African voice sounded an 
affirmative from the passage. Soon after the door 
banged shut. What would the captain say if he knew 
what was doing ? His wrath would fall with crushing 
force upon the delinquents, without doubt. 

I opened my door and peeped out. It had oc- 
curred to me that I could make good use of the 
contraband candles and matches myself. I moved 
cautiously forward and raised the box with great 


Grayson Plays a Trump Card 71 

difficulty, found the candles, possessed myself of two 
and a box of matches, replaced all as I had found it, 
and retreated with this spoil to my little den once 
more and locked myself in. 

I contemplated my find with great satisfaction. 
I should now be able to perform the necessary duties 
for Rex at night with less anxiety; the nights had 
troubled me, I own. 

I dusted off a chair I fetched forth from the cor- 
ner ; then dusted the table nearby. I sank exhaustedly 
upon the chair and laid my arms upon the table 
and my head upon my arms. I was just worn out, 
and that ’s the truth. It was the first time since Rex’s 
birth that I had kept on my feet so constantly; the 
baskets were no mean weight for one unaccustomed 
to such burdens. I sat long with relaxed nerves and 
muscles, resting as effectively on the old chair as 
though it had been of the finest upholstery. Rex 
was fortunately so much occupied surveying the world 
from his new nest that he failed to take note of the 
fact that his dinner-hour was approaching — a circum- 
stance which gave me time to compose my disordered 
nerves to something approximating calmness first. 

For the first time since making my escape from 
under Howard’s very nose I had leisure to wonder 
how it had fared with my double and Sukey. Had 
Howard caught up with them and discovered how 
he had been tricked? And supposing that to be the 
case, how would he proceed next? I felt sure he 
would leave no vessel, no railway terminal unsearched. 
If only we could have gone on down river in the 
Jennie Lee! I trembled for the consequences should 
we fall into his hands at this stage. We could look 


72 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


for no quarter, I was certain. If only the French 
merchantman would steam away at once! I could 
breathe easier once we were out of New Orleans; for 
there was no certainty that Howard would not carry 
his investigations to every craft on the river, now 
that he knew how I had tricked him. 

But I put away these worries determinedly; they 
were not conducive, certainly, to the peace and tran- 
quillity necessary before nursing my boy. I raised 
my head and looked over toward him. What more 
tranquillizing subject of contemplation could a 
mother need? The darling little hands! How rest- 
less they were, never for one instant in repose; how 
those wandering baby hands, so dimpled, white, and 
soft, had brought balm to my bruised spirit ! Blessed 
little innocent! How lovely, how darling he was! 
Oh, if Deane could only see him now! Oh, that he 
might have that happiness! There is nothing in the 
world can compensate him for the lack of this blessed 
privilege, I mourned, regretfully. And Deane was 
always so fond of children; they always reciprocated 
beautifully, I must say — wherever he went there 
was sure to be a crowd of youngsters gathered round 
him, if any were about. Babies turned up their little 
faces to him joyously, to be kissed; held out eager 
arms and cuddled up contentedly in those strong 
young arms. Oh, yes, Deane was an ardent child- 
lover. And to think that he can never know the 
solace of intimate association with beautiful little 
Rex! Can never hug up the little body close, close! 
Oh, it was cruel! cruel! 

I had promised to write and apprise Deane that 
all was well as soon as there was anything definite to 


Grayson Plays a Trump Card 73 

communicate. As soon as I was settled in some dis- 
tant city I must not delay the long-promised letter. 
He would be expecting word any day, and would 
begin to worry if he failed to receive it. Rex was 
now three months old; but, of course, being a seven- 
months ’ child, in the natural course should have been 
but one. 

Rex began to fret a little, but softly; indeed, he 
seldom made a fuss, being a decidedly patient little 
fellow. Poor, patient, hungry little man! I hugged 
him up thankfully; we were safe, anyway, if things 
had n ’t gone exactly according to schedule. Baby 
would hardly eat at first for looking in wonder at 
my dark face ; he kept staring up at me with his big 
blue eyes, articulating questioning little cooes all the 
while. He was not frightened, as I half expected he 
would be; but then he was used to Sukey and the 
other black women, and he finished his meal by and 
by when I kept talking to him and urging him on. 

I laid him down sleeping soundly, at last, and 
busied myself with arranging the room to something 
resembling order. Placing a light wrap over baby, 
to keep off the dust, I plied the stump of a broom 
I found cautiously over the floor till I had made a 
different-looking place of the grim-looking hole. 
What a relief it was, after I had dusted everything 
with some old rags I found in a corner, to sit and 
survey the prospect. Order of a sort reigned in 
Warsaw. My hands were a sight by this time; but 
I dared not risk going to the lavatory yet — I must 
wait till late to-night for that. I had worn cheap 
cotton gloves when I started from home; why had 
I not thought to leave them on while I swept and 


74 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 

dusted? I opened my purse and got out my cologne 
bottle, and made shift with that, scrubbing my hands 
with an old handkerchief. 

Thoroughly tired out, I lay down beside baby at 
last, and presently fell into sound slumber. 


CHAPTER IX 


In D urance 

I must have slept a long time, for it was quite 
dusk when I woke. My first waking thought was puz- 
zled, confused. I failed to make out where I was 
for a minute; my bones ached, and I realized then 
how hard was the couch upon which I lay. 

What was that pounding noise? I listened in be- 
wilderment. All at once it flashed upon me — the en- 
gines! Could it be? Yes, yes, the welcome sound 
of the engines pounded through the twilight. We ’re 
off! We really are moving at last, I told myself, 
joyfully. 

I hurried to the port and looked out. There was 
still light enough outside for me to see that the sur- 
roundings were entirely strange. I was on the port 
side of the boat ; consequently New Orleans, if we had 
been in sight of it, must have been on this side. There 
was but one conclusion to draw — we must have cleared 
the dock hours ago; probably within a short time of 
my falling to sleep. It spoke volumes for my ex- 
hausted state, when I failed to waken the instant the 
engines, for whose pound I had hearkened so anx- 
iously, began to throb. But then I had slept little 
the night before. I would keep worrying for fear 
something would interfere with my projected flight. 

How I reveled, exulted in the throbbing engines! 

75 


76 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


It was the most blessed music, those beating, pound- 
ing strokes! Oh, I was glad, glad! Hope whispered 
that I was embarked on a voyage of fresh beginnings ; 
that the future promised brighter, more tranquil times 
than had been my portion these sad, gloomy days of 
the past winter and spring. No one knew I had 
boarded the ship; I could not be traced; there was 
absolutely no clue. I breathed freer the longer I 
dwelt on these things, and I felt I could brave the 
uncertainties of the future without flinching now 
that the fear of Howard was receding. I fell to 
planning the next step in my journey ; hitherto I had 
been half afraid to look far beyond the present mo- 
ment, dreading to be ignominiously dragged back into 
bondage once more. I had scarcely dared to hope, 
must less plan, for the future. But I was safe, safe, 
now! The first thing to do was to remove the stain 
from my face. But no — it was still too early to ven- 
ture forth from my lair; I must wait till after mid- 
night at least. 

I set forth some of the meager fare I had got from 
the colored vendor, and lunched off it gratefully. 
Hunger is indeed the best sauce, and I brought a 
healthy appetite to the homely board. My thoughts 
kept dwelling on the problem of how best to set forth 
my case to the captain of the boat. What was he 
like? I wondered. Would he be small and slim, as 
so many of the French sailors were? or would he be 
short and pudgy, as I had noticed that so many of 
the sailors on the French man-of-war had been? 
Would he be good-natured and gallant — the pink of 
politeness — and help me to signal and board some 
vessel bound for some nearer port than his own ? Or 


Grayson Plays a Trump Card 77 

would he turn out a crusty old curmudgeon, a mar- 
tinet over things trivial, and feel it incumbent upon 
his dignity to make all sorts of objections and diffi- 
culties for the sake of example; perhaps not find it 
incompatible with his ideas of discipline to clap the 
delinquent in irons, I gloomed darkly, with the 
vaguest of notions (culled from a rather promiscuous 
course of reading) as to the punishment adequate to 
my crime? 

I looked over helplessly at little Rex, kicking up 
his heels and cooing from sheer joy of sensuous well- 
being. "What would the dreaded captain say to baby ? 
I regarded the child curiously a minute, trying to 
view him as a stranger might. His great blue eyes, 
shaded by long curly lashes; his yellow curls, so ex- 
traordinarily long for a three-months-old baby (and 
not merely the light shade of the average baby, but 
a warm, vivid yellow-gold) ; his milk-white skin, just 
tinted with rose-pink — all struck me as out of the 
common. Oh, yes, I told myself confidently, he was 
bonny, bonny ! If I failed in my pleadings with the 
present arbiter of our fate, here, surely, was a special 
pleader, whose blandishments, the mother’s partial 
soul within, assured me might be counted upon to 
melt a heart of stone. 

I took the boy up and, after feeding him, propped 
him up in the old vendor’s basket. It was a roomy 
affair, the handles dropped down to each side, and 
after it had been lined with the blue cotton blanket, 
supplemented with the little pillow from the impro- 
vised pallet, made as comfortable a nest as possible. 
So baby seemed to think, at any rate; he cooed and 
gurgled to himself softly, augmenting his evident sat- 


78 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


isfaetion by approving little pats of the wandering 
baby-hands on the sides of the basket. 

Then I cleared away the debris of my frugal meal 
blithely enough, for there was a song of thanksgiving 
tuning its way through my heart, though my tongue 
dared not voice the lay. We were safe, safe! It 
only meant a matter of days now till we would be 
in more comfortable quarters. 

This much, I hoped, if the captain were amenable 
to reason, I might count upon ; I had a vague notion, 
then, of hailing some steamer bound either for New 
York or San Francisco, it mattered not which; both 
were remote enough to avoid all risk of being found. 
I could remain lost indefinitely; and yet either city 
was of sufficient consequence for me to begin earning 
a modest income. 

Sitting on the one chair the room afforded which 
promised the requisite cohesion of its dilapidated 
parts, I mused hopefully over the pros and cons of 
the future. It was my plan to hide in some out-of- 
the-way corner for awhile. Howard might forget us 
by and by, when time had composed his rage some- 
what. He would not be reminded constantly of his 
wrongs by the sight of us, baby and I. Oh, yes, his 
anger would die out, I felt sure, when there was noth- 
ing to feed it upon. I hoped to go into vaudeville 
the coming winter if I could find a place in the reg- 
ular circuits. I had often seen advertisements for 
artistes; and while not precisely an artiste, still I 
hoped my experience with the French Opera Com- 
pany had given my work that finish so much at vari- 
ance with an amateur’s efforts. For the coming sum- 
mer I counted on getting an engagement in some 


Grayson Plays a Trump Card 79 

amusement park, either in an obscure opera company 
resident in St. Louis or Chicago (if San Francisco 
proved barren of opportunities), or as a vaude- 
ville singer. My violin work was another asset I 
banked on to provide the means for keeping the wolf 
at bay. I must remain in obscurity while making my 
modest way into the good graces of the public, for 
the present. Lady Nan would do her best to keep 
Howard from forgetting his wrongs, I feared. She 
would write often. He had answered her letter, the 
one in which she had managed to convey to him her 
vile version of Deane’s attendance during those 
months when Howard was under a cloud. I doubt 
not the tale lost nothing in coloring, but rather, ac- 
cording to his vindictive arraignment of me that day 
in the garden, gathered a rich vermilion in transit. 
This correspondence would probably continue, I made 
sure, till all Lady Halliwell’s old-time influence over 
Howard was revived once more. That might have 
the effect of dimming somewhat his acute sense of 
wrong over the tragic ending of his marriage. Any- 
way I was forced to give up any work that tended 
to bring me into anything like prominence in the 
public eye. It was my intention to withhold the full 
strength of my voice in any engagement I found ; to 
sing with greatly subdued compass the simplest songs. 
Indeed, the modern popular song hardly called for 
much of a voice; besides I was counting on making 
my violin work the main attraction. 

For a long time I sat in the dark (for I dared not 
light a candle, I must save them for actual need), 
thinking over the chances and expedients for avoiding 
publicity. I wondered much if it were really a species 


80 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


of madness that possessed Howard — a madness super- 
induced by his injuries. I hoped not; oh, I hoped 
not ! That would be too terrible a consequence of the 
evil fortune of the past year. How lost I felt with- 
out Deane ’s cheerful common sense to allay the doubts 
and fears that would keep assailing me! Oh, to see 
him just once more ! To hear his voice, to feel again 
the virile clasp of his fingers ! If only — but I turned 
my thoughts determinedly from futile longings. 
That way lay unrest. 

I looked about for something to do to occupy my- 
self with till I might venture forth in quest of water, 
for I was half perished with thirst by this time. I 
lighted a candle and looked at my watch. Only ten 
o ’clock ! Far too early yet to make the attempt. Baby 
had begun to fret fitfully at the long-continued dark- 
ness; so I took him up and got him ready for the 
night, changing his little slip for the gown I had with 
me in the ever-resourceful basket. He fell into his 
sound night-sleep after he was fed; for he never 
stirred when I laid him down on the pallet, which I 
rearranged with the blanket and pillow. He would 
be good for the rest of the night now, I knew. 

At ten-thirty I could wait no longer; my throat 
felt dry and parched, a fever seemed consuming me ; 
so, catching up my little folding silver drinking-cup, 
without which I seldom traveled, I opened the door, 
at the risk of immediate discovery, and advanced cau- 
tiously into the outer room, and thence down the dark 
passage to the dressing-room, where I shot the bolt 
with trembling fingers. I lighted the candle I had 
brought with me, and then tilted it to melt the wax, 
so I might affix it to the washstand. 


Grayson Plays a Trump Card 81 

Never did nectar and ambrosia taste more deli- 
cious to the gods on Mt. Olympus (if that is where 
they did devour it — my classic lore is rather rusty, 
I confess) than did that simple draught of water taste 
to me after my eight hours’ enforced abstinence. I 
filled the little drinking-cup three times before my 
thirst was wholly quenched. 

Then I proceeded to remove the stain from my face 
and neck. ' I unwound the turban from my head, 
shook it out, and used it for both wash-cloth and 
towel; its cotton warp feeling grateful to my hot 
face. It took copious applications of cold cream and 
soap, alternately (which I produced from my hand- 
bag), and much vigorous scrubbing before my face 
took on its pristine coloring once more. I filled the 
drinking-cup with water, which must do me for the 
whole of the next day — it being impossible for me 
to make another trip before night had again fallen — • 
seized the candle, and, after slipping back the bolt, 
blew out the light and groped my way back to my 
refuge, counting the doors to be sure to enter the 
right one. 


6 


CHAPTER X 


“Kind Hearts Are More Than 
Coronets.” 

The night passed away without incident, as did 
the next day and night as well. I had kept postpon- 
ing the putting of my fate to the touch with the 
dreaded captain. I feared he would put us ashore 
before we had reached the open sea, leaving us 
stranded in some little borough that would necessi- 
tate a return to New Orleans in order to reach the 
great arteries of travel again. 

But on the second morning I saw, when I ran to 
the port-hole and looked out, that we were well out 
upon the Atlantic at last. I thought as much on first 
waking, the roll of the vessel being distinctly differ- 
ent from what it had been when I lay down. I must 
find the captain with as little delay as possible and 
throw myself on his mercy. My provisions were get- 
ting decidedly stale, and my health would suffer un- 
der the strain if I failed to settle the vexed question 
at once. 

I made as careful a toilet for both baby and my- 
self as the paucity of my resources permitted, well 
knowing the advantage of the traditional favorable 
first impression. I had a little summer gown with 
me ; it was of pale green of such a soft, pliable texture 
as to admit of its being crushed into a ball without 
82 


Grayson Plays a Trump Card 83 

showing much evidence of such heroic treatment. 
I had shaken it out and hung it up in a corner; it 
was in fair condition and beautifully clean. I felt a 
distinct acquisition of self-respect when arrayed in 
fresh garments once more. Baby had on one of his 
simple white slips I had saved up for the purpose, 
supplemented by his blue knitted jacket and blue 
stockings and white bootees with blue tops. His little 
white muslin bonnet and soft flannel coat adjusted, I 
wrapped his knitted shawl about me, for there was 
a coolish breeze blowing, and set boldly forth, leaving 
one of the baskets packed with the bulkier articles to 
be recovered later. 

It was close upon ten o’clock when I made my 
way gingerly-wise down the passage aft to the hatch- 
way and on to the deck above. Not a soul seemed 
about ; my footfalls made no sound above the subdued 
pound of the engines as I trod the deck doubtfully, 
not certain which way to turn. But, stay! Those 
were surely voices forward. Yes, I thought so. I 
could distinguish the soft tones of a lady’s voice, 
softly modulated, with the glad lilt of youth in its 
cadences. Then a bass voice boomed through the 
morning air; so deep a voice that I jumped in my 
tracks, so sure was I that the formidable captain 
stood just around that jog made by a cabin whose in- 
terior (which I could see through an open door) 
showed fine taste in its simple furnishings. Some 
odds and ends of woman’s gear strewed the couch, 
a canary chirped in its gilded cage at an open win- 
dow; Rex cooed appreciatively and held out eager 
little hands. I hushed him and took a perfunctory 
step or two nearer the voices, but stopped abruptly. 


84 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


“Well, au revoir, cherie; for a little while, at 
least,” the big bass rumbled at this moment, to which 
his companion murmured something in French that 
I did not quite catch; but from the tone I surmised 
she was registering a protest. The man laughed out 
a response also in French, and then I heard the sibi- 
lant sound of a kiss before the speaker took himself 
off. There was the sound of his footsteps running 
down the forward hatch stairs. 

I took heart of grace. If that were indeed the 
captain, he was now gone, and only the lady, his wife 
or his daughter, remained. To her I would address 
the plea for clemency I had been formulating in my 
busy brain. Now or never, I said to myself, grimly, 
hastening forward before my courage had time to 
wane. 

“Bon soir!” I said, timidly, as I came up to the 
fair chatelaine who stood facing me; but her head 
was turned in the direction of the departing foot- 
steps, a look of proud absorption on her pretty face. 

“Bon soir!” I repeated, somewhat louder this 
time, for her attention was so taken up with the sound 
of the big bass booming away in a mixture of French 
and our own American slang, below, that she gave 
no heed to what was transpiring under her pretty 
little nose. 

It was the captain. His voice held a note of 
authority now, and there was a rumbling sound as of 
barrels being moved about below, which covered the 
low tones of my voice. At this point baby emitted 
a loud coo of delight, followed by his fetching little 
gurgles of glee, unable longer to restrain the joy he 
felt in the refreshing gale which swept over this un- 


Grayson Plays a Trump Card 85 

protected quarter of the deck with unexpected force, 
and in the sparkling blue waters below, that were 
breaking against the sides of the ship in great waves 
of snowy foam. 

The lady looked around, startled, then. 

“Mon Dieu!” she exclaimed, surveying us with 
an expression of incredulity in her black eyes. “This 
is simply a vision; there is really no one near, ,, they 
seemed to say. 

I shifted Rex to the left arm in order to steady 
myself the better against the roll of the ship, which 
was becoming more and more pronounced with the 
rising gale. The simple movement broke the spell. 

4 4 But look you ; it is not possible ! How did you 
come here?” she queried in voluble French, native, 
I was sure, from the purity of the accent. 4 4 But, yes; 
you must be that, what ’s her name? — newly risen 
from the vasty deep, using the ship as a modern sort 
of sea-horse ; is it not ? No ?” as I at once disclaimed 
any affinity with Nereid, with sea nymphs all and 
sundry, in fact. 

I hurried into speech at once, French, out of com- 
pliment to my listener, depicting in a few words 
(which, from her expressions of astonishment, she 
found decidedly moving) some of the events that led 
to my taking refuge on board ship, and what I hoped 
from the captain. 

4 4 Do you think he will be so good? Will he signal 
a returning ship and send me aboard? I will gladly 
pay for all expense incurred — ” I was proceeding, 
only she interrupted me. 

4 4 But, certainly,” with an air of conviction. I 
was to dismiss all worry from my mind at once. I 


86 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


should see ; but, yes, there would be no difficulty. Oh, 
none whatever; for, look you! a bride was of a de- 
cided advantage. Oh, but tenez, la petite; she had 
only just been married. The captain was her husband. 
Voila! mais oui certainement, everything would come 
right; only wait. And I had been persecuted by a 
cruel husband ? Mon Dieu, the wretch ! It was triste, 
inconceivable! But doubtless all would now come 
right. Well, I must just come into her cabin and be 
made comfortable at once. To think of my being im- 
mured so long in that dreadful cubby-hole ! Etc. 

So chattering, she ushered me into the pleasant 
cabin I had peeped into a short time before. She 
insisted upon taking Rex into her lap, after pressing 
me gently but insistently into a leather-backed arm- 
chair. She went into raptures over the “darling 
cherub — ma bon cherie enfant He gave her one 
of his sweetest smiles, whereupon she nearly smothered 
him with kisses. 

She carried him off at last to ply his wiles on the 
captain, after giving me a most minute and compre- 
hensive account of her courtship and wedding, which 
her parents, being of the aristocracy, opposed to the 
last. 

“So I was married in my traveling-dress, after 
all, and came straight to the ship that same night,’ ’ 
she wound up, artlessly, plainly looking upon me 
as a godsend, scrupling not, indeed, to inform me 
that she delighted in the sound of her own voice. 
“For, look you, Henri was much occupied,” and 
time, no doubt, hung heavily on the little bride’s 
hands; she being a social, gregarious young soul not 
much beyond her teens. 


Grayson Plays a Trump Card 87 

After she had tripped off to find her husband 
I went below and fetched up the basket I had left 
in the stuffy little room. I met no one, fortunately, 
though voices came to me distinctly from the culinary 
department. Returning, I breathed deep draughts 
of the cool sea air, so grateful after the close atmo- 
sphere I had just quitted ; for I had, of course, closed 
the ports before leaving with Rex, and there was 
hardly a breath of air. 

The day was perfect; scarcely a cloud dimmed 
the turquois sky. The blue waves rolled tumultuously 
round the boat, boiling into fleecy crests that I never 
tired of watching. Some white sails dotted the hori- 
zon to the northeast, but I strained my eyes in vain 
for the smoke from the longed-for steamer. 

I re-entered Mrs. Dubois’s cabin (for that was 
her name) and disposed my burden in an obscure cor- 
ner. Looking round for something to pass the time, 
I spied a tiny piano in one corner, covered with sheets 
of music. It drew me irresistibly, and I whiled 
away a half-hour trying over the score of one of the 
comic operas of the day. I began to be somewhat 
uneasy, as time went on, and still the vivacious little 
bride failed to appear. 

I turned over the music idly till I found some- 
thing which promised unusual beauty. It was a song, 
and before I knew it I was warbling away with a 
right good will, unconsciously permitting my voice 
to swell out to the full extent of its power from sheer 
joy in the beautiful strain. It was as natural for 
me to sing as for the birds in the greenwood; my 
long abstinence had been a sore trial. I lost all count 
of time and place and the exigence of my position. 


88 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


I was recalled to myself by the youthful Mrs. 
Dubois, who bustled up to me with voluble expressions 
of amazement as I finished with a raptly prolonged 
crescendo. 

“But, Madame, it is to marvel I must! The won- 
derful gift! Oh, I am surprise. You are one great 
prima donna, incognito, is it not?” speaking in Eng- 
lish for the first time. 

“Oh, no; I haven’t that honor,” I told her, dep- 
reeatingly, reaching out my arms for Rex, who was 
getting restless at sight of his mother. “But what 
success did you have? Your husband, was he pla- 
cable ? ” I questioned \ eagerly, while I rearranged 
baby’s skirts, which had been hustled nearly up to his 
neck in the prentice hands of the bride. 

“But yes, mais certainement. It is what you call 
‘all right’ on this side the Atlantic,” with a compre- 
hensive wave of her hand toward the long-faded 
shores of America. 

“You were gone so long, I feared the worst,” I 
said, taking off little Rex’s bonnet and smoothing his 
tumbled curls, while I listened to the account of the 
siege. 

“Oh, he was a little difficult just before the first; 
for he is of a mettlesomeness, of a stubbornness. 
Prated to me of one big example to the crew. Talked 
a little grandly about discipline, when I first men- 
tioned of the most charming pair of stowaways on 
board. Look you, he was of a fury, Madame, when 
I asked him to pardon the so great offense against lese 
majeste. Oh, he- was quite unmanagable for one little 
minute. ‘What! he, the commander of the ship, over- 
look so crass a breach of the rules? Huh! I got a 


Grayson Plays a Trump Card 89 

moving - picture o’ myself doing it! Mon cherie. Oh, 
no; not on yonr life; not so you could notice it, I 
do n’t make such a chump of myself before the crew !’ 
He speak so queer, Madame — what he call ‘United 
States,’ sometime. But then he have been one great 
while in America. He thinks in ‘United States,’ I 
sometime say to him.” 

“How did you win him to mercy?” I put in, as 
she paused, out of breath. I hid a smile at her 
droll attempt to quote the slang, her emphasis always 
on the wrong syllables. 

“Oh, it was what Henri call ‘dead easy,’ Look 
you, I simply pick up yon little bundle,” with a 
gesture toward my boy, “which I have dispose out 
of sight, up to this, behind some rigging, and thrust 
the babee under his belligerent nose and defy him 
in plain words to mistreat the mother of the so dar- 
ling enfant cherub!” And she laughed trimphantly 
at her own finesse. “Oh, Madame, you should have 
seen Henri’s face then. He was one ‘flabbergast;’ 
for look you, he took the notion, from my address, 
that the two stowaways were men. I was likewise 
surprise, when I come to think I had not made my- 
self to be understood. But when he look at la babee ’s 
blue eyes and golden curls, and see the sunny smile 
of him, it is plain the day is half won. Oh, I was 
sure it would fall out so, la petite. For my Henri 
had a little son with just the sunny curls of yon, like- 
wise the blue eyes the same. Oh, yes; but certainly, 
I am the wife number two, see you. I have many 
times looked upon the miniature of the little son. 
He is now with his mother with le bon Dieu. Of a 
certainement I was not slow to follow up the ad- 


90 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


vantage by pointing out to my captain that no one 
knows yon are on board; that you have only to be 
dressed np in some of my things, to pass for our own 
invited guest. ‘And voila toutV I say, triumphantly, 
‘the thing is done!’ ” 

She piloted me to the inner cabin, then; it had 
another entrance from the deck, I noted as I laid 
baby down on the roomy divan. This was to be our 
new quarters, I found; my new friend’s vivacious 
tongue rapidly assuring me that nothing should be 
lacking to my comfort. Together we selected a dress 
from her abundant wardrobe, more in keeping with 
the chill breezes, which blew stronger every moment. 
It fitted me well enough, only lacking a few inches in 
the length prescribed by the present mode; I being 
somewhat taller than my hostess. 

I found the captain, whom I met later, a very 
pleasant man, but disconcertingly short in stature; 
his big voice sounding distinctly mat a propos, com- 
ing from such a source. He was exceedingly def- 
erential, putting himself out to be kind to us on 
more than one occasion during our stay. Our lines 
had indeed fallen in pleasant places, I told myself as 
I lay, that night, in my comfortable bunk and re- 
flected on the events of the day whose dawn I had 
so dreaded. 

The captain was an enthusiastic admirer of every- 
thing American, interlarding his speeches with co- 
pious examples of the idioms of the country. He 
thought well of my plan to signal a westbound vessel, 
and had a plan which I should never have thought of. 
He gallantly repudiated my offers of remuneration 
for the expense the thing would entail. 


Grayson Plays a Trump Card 91 

‘‘Yon just pipe your uncle, ma ton amie!” he 
hosted, naively, “I ’ll soon have my wireless working 
overtime in your behalf. It ’s a lead-pipe cinch 
you ’ll be aboard a western liner in less than twenty- 
four hours; and that ’s no dream!” With which he 
marched off to take a recreant sailor to task for some 
infraction of ship rules, for he was a strict disciplina- 
rian, and kept his men well in hand. I could hear 
his big voice booming away with unction from the 
aft hatchway. 

The time passed quickly away after I had met 
my good friends. Everything went off as we had 
planned it; a wireless reached us in answer to those 
sent out from our ship, from a steamer bound for 
San Francisco. I parted from Captain and Mrs. 
Dubois with sincere regret; they had been most kind 
to one in sore need. The little bride declared her- 
self inconsolable on parting with “ma ton enfant,” 
and after kissing him and me on both cheeks, stood 
waving a tearful good-bye from the deck as we sped 
to the waiting steamer in the tender. Captain Dubois 
kept waving his hat after us boyishly, evidently look- 
ing upon the thing as a jolly lark. I looked back as 
long as their kind faces could be distinguished, well 
knowing that better friends I should never find more. 

The Blank steamer sailed away majestically to the 
west as soon as we were fairly on board, and we ar- 
rived in the chilly city of San Francisco in due 
course, without special incident. 


CHAPTER XI 


An Unfortunate Slip 

It took some little time to find the coveted engage- 
ment in the city of “The Golden Gate;” but after 
weeks of disheartening search a position was offered 
me in a summer opera company then playing in one 
of the lower-priced houses. I had to sing with more 
volume than I thought wise, in my trials before the 
various managers, but got desperate at last, and de- 
cided to get placed somewhere, and then trust to other 
things besides my voice to make enough of a hit with 
my audiences to retain the position, once fairly en- 
gaged. 

The opera company at Blank Theater was holding 
the center of the stage, with matinees "Wednesdays 
and Saturdays. I was to entertain the patrons be- 
tween the acts, thus preventing the interest from lag- 
ging while waiting for the weary players to change 
for the succeeding acts. My violin was to be a spe- 
cial feature, both as accompaniment to my songs 
and for solos. 

I sent to the school friend in St. Paul for my 
trunk as soon as I had settled. Mrs. Dubois had in- 
sisted upon making up a small box of her things for 
me, else I must have bought a fresh supply for my- 
self, as I did for baby. 

We were both in the best of health. The long sea 
voyage had done us a world of good, and the bracing 
92 


Grayson Plays a Trump Card 93 

air of San Francisco after the enervating heat of 
New Orleans was wholesome for us, too. A heart- 
ache would come now and then, when the time since 
I had had a sight of Deane’s strong face seemed to 
stretch to endless ages; though he was never absent 
long from my thoughts, my days were soon so busy 
that I found scant time for looking back. 

My work with the violin had caught on with the 
fickle public, the manager told me, and I must prac- 
tice endlessly, I found, to keep up fresh themes.. And 
the songs, too, must be tried over ceaselessly; my 
voice lending itself to the restrained way of singing 
only after much training. The violin accompaniment 
in conjunction with the regular orchestra had like- 
wise, it seemed, made a decided hit with the crowds 
that flocked to the theater. My songs were as gen- 
erously applauded as the work of the regular players, 
though this was not the highest stamp of approval 
to be wished for, the audiences being of an affinity 
with the prices. 

Oh, yes; my hours were too full, in those early 
days of the new work, for useless, bitter regret over 
my lost happiness. The days would have been lonely 
and barren beyond expression if I had had leisure to 
think; but I must work very hard to keep up with 
the bi-weekly change of program. I was allowed a 
certain latitude, as time went on, in the selections; 
so I could indulge my passion for music without stint, 
extracting a melancholy sort of solace in the beautiful 
strains I evoked from the wailing instrument. It 
poured balm over my wounded soul, bowed under 
the weight of undeserved infamy, none the less gall- 
ing because it was secret, known to but three people 


94 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


besides myself. My work compensated much for the 
absolute aloofness from my fellows I felt obliged to 
maintain; for I made no friends, kept wholly to my- 
self, earning in consequence the unjust reputation of 
being above my work. More than once it came to 
my ears that my confreres at the theater looked de- 
cidedly askance at me ; and several sly allusions were 
made, in my hearing, to certain persons, who should 
be nameless, of course, but who were “not a thousand 
miles away” just the same, who were “strong on the 
chilly stuff” and exceedingly liberal in the display 
“of the marble heart.” 

But I wisely took no notice of these frank hints, 
persisting firmly in the course I had laid out for my- 
self, feeling that I did well to hold back. It was 
not for me to make friends. No, no ; I was unworthy. 
Too keenly I felt the dark cloud under which I must 
live, to drag others with me. The cloud might burst 
above me at any time, deluging me with shame and 
ignominy. No, I could not take honest people by 
the hand as though the dark past were of no account ; 
could not rid myself of the notion that I was forever 
branded with an ineffaceable stain. The horrible con- 
sequences I must face, should everything come out, 
was ever before me. I could bank on Lady Nan’s 
making trouble should it ever be in her power. Should 
she ever, by any chance, come into possession of her 
marriage document again, I could look for no quar- 
ter from her. That fatal twist in her nature was 
bound to gain the ascendency. She hated me too cor- 
dially for me to expect anything like leniency from 
her. There was another thing: Howard, if he really 
had become crazed ever so little by his numerous 


Grayson Plays a Trump Card 95 

bumps, might precipitate a crisis if he found me out. 
His overweening fear of the world’s opinion might 
sink to insignificance should he become obsessed with 
the spirit of vengeance. 

I was glad now that I had pursued a stand-offish 
policy in New Orleans, instinctively, from the very 
first. And how thankful I was, later, when — I was 
forced to meet people socially, of course, in a small 
way! Howard was a great stickler for society, a 
regular devotee, and was never so happy as when the 
house was full of guests. I had to restrain him more 
than once when he exceeded the bounds I had set 
for myself in this regard; he only gave in when I 
threatened an immediate break with him. So it fell 
out that when I made my strenuous flight from the 
city I hadn’t a single friend whom it cost me a 
pang to part with, though there were plenty of nice 
people whom I should have delighted in had circum- 
stances been different. 

Baby was thriving amain in the bracing sea air: 
we had lodgings in a dear old house as far out as 
possible along the bay, kept by a quaint little gentle- 
woman of Spanish extraction. By her leave the up- 
stairs girl looked after him on the rainy days and 
nights while I was doing my stunts at the theater. 
But these were growing fewer and fewer as the dry 
season set in, and I soon had him with me constantly ; 
a tip to the dresser of the theater secured her over- 
sight during the half hour I was before the footlights. 

Of a morning, after my usual three hours’ prac- 
tice, I took Rex, providing the weather were not too 
chill, to spend three or four hours on the sea. There 
were coastwise excursions and to the islands. I had 


96 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


lunch on the boat. The sea air gave me a ravenous 
appetite; so I did full justice to the Spanish cuisine. 
My inland-tired eyes appreciated, with a keenness un- 
known to those accustomed to the sea, the beauty and 
sublimity of its great water-reaches. I never tired of 
watching the roll of the waves breaking in half -circles 
of foam against the beaches and the shipping in the 
harbor. Rex was growing a great, sturdy fellow, 
seeming to imbibe fresh vigor and spirits with every 
breath he drew. 

We were always back by one o’clock, and on mati- 
nee days two found us at the theater — baby asleep in 
his go-cart, usually, and I singing my three songs and 
rendering my two numbers on the violin, though the 
encores usually necessitated an extra tune or two not 
down on the bill. 

But it was not long before a change came in my 
work. The leading soprano of the company was pros- 
trated by a severe sore throat, with malarial accom- 
paniment. I was pressed into service, at only three 
hours’ notice, having inadvertently admitted that I 
knew the score of the opera scheduled for that week. 
It was my old Leonore role. I had not sung it since 
that night, so many months ago — that night so full 
of anguish, when first I knew the full measure of woe 
pronounced against me — that night when I touched 
as well the divine heights in the knowledge, which 
came to me then for the first time, of Deane’s love. 

How the memory of it all came back! How 
vividly real the “Miserere” became as I wailed out 
Leonore ’s wild plaint, “And can I ever forget thee! 
And can I ever forget thee!” 

I lost myself entirely, forgetting time and place 


Grayson Plays a Trump Card 97 

in the passionate regret with which the music inspired 
me, allowing my voice to swell out almost to the full 
extent of its power before I realized what I was doing. 
I checked myself instantly to the mediocre plane I 
had laid out for myself when I became conscious of 
the astonishment depicted on the faces of the audience 
and a distinct stir of amazement among my fellow 
singers. But it was all no use — the mischief was 
done. Manager Campbell came bustling up to me 
at the close of the scene, before I was fairly in the 
wings, and broke out into voluble speech. 

“ Shades of Erato, Orpheus, and Jenny Lind, and 
— and all the other defunct big noises ! Why, this is 
remarkable ; nothing less. I had n ’t the faintest no- 
tion you could sing like this, Mrs. Beals!’’ For that 
was the name I had taken. '‘Why, look here; you ’re 
the real candy, and no mistake ! Come, ’ ’ motioning 
me back to the stage as the thunders of applause be- 
came more and more insistent. 

But I shook my head. “I am not always up to 
the mark. It is just an accident” (and so it was), I 
protested, as I went forth once more to repeat the 
measure with something approximating the fervor of 
the moment previous; for I dared not sink back all 
at once to the old level. 

Manager Campbell stopped me on the way to the 
dressing-room. 

“I can’t get over this Melba stunt of yours, Mrs. 
Beals. “You ’ve got me guessing, I confess. How 
is it—” 

“Oh, it ’s very simple; you exaggerate the affair,” 
I told him. “I just happened to feel in the mood; 
that ’s all. I don’t always; in fact, it is seldom it 


7 


98 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


happens. Besides it ’s my favorite music ; always has 
been. I ’ve practiced the airs for years before ever 
I thought I should sing in public.’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Oh, that ’s all very well ; but it does n ’t explain 
your absolute mastery, your perfect oneness with the 
role. Why, even the merest tryo could see that it was 
no mere amateur performance. It is out of the ques- 
tion, of course, that you should go back to those in- 
genue stunts of yours after this exhibition of power. 
No, ma’am! I should say not! Any one can sing 
those simple ballads and coon songs. Oh, I can easily 
replace you there,” as I was about to object. “Next 
week you shall go up against Faust’s ‘Marguerite,’ 
and if you fall down on her, then it ’ll be up to me 
to do the next best thing.” With which vivid burst 
of the picturesque flowers of our modern, degenerate 
rhetoric he thrust the score of the projected piece, 
which he fished from a pile of manuscripts on an 
adjacent table, into my reluctant hands. 

After all, I reflected, when, the work of the after- 
noon over, I wended my way homeward with Rex — 
after all it would matter very little, this proposed pro- 
motion to grand opera. I had had a little talk with 
Manager Campbell after the performance. I con- 
fided enough of my history to him to let him see that 
I was seeking retirement rather than the fame he 
so confidently assured me could be mine if I would 
consent to let him star me in his next stand. I told 
him this was out of the question. 

“There is a good and sufficient reason, Mr. Camp- 
bell, but I can’t tell you what it is all about. I will 
say this much, and you will readily see that I can’t 
alter my decision ; I had intended to engage in grand 


Grayson Plays a Trump Card 99 

opera before I came to San Francisco, had even 
signed up, and all; but — well, my husband ill-used 
me. I was forced to flee. I must remain in obscurity 
for the present. ’ ’ 

“1 see,” he interpolated, as I paused, at a loss 
how to proceed. “Skiddo! Twenty-three for you ! ” 
with a fat chuckle. “Well, we might get round that 
all 0 K. It ’s on the cards you would make good 
without any extra boosting; and that ’s no dream, 
either,” he finished, confidently. 

“Very well,” I told him, resignedly; “if you will 
agree to let me become a member of the company 
without expecting too much of me — just let me go 
along moderate-like, so that I can escape special no- 
tice — I will do as you wish. Then, if the months go 
by and nothing happens, I can gradually let out my 
voice to something of its real timbre, appearing to 
grade up to it by hard work. You will then begin — ” 

‘ * To rake in the coin, ’ 9 he broke in, with empresse- 
ment. “Yes, we will let it go at that. It ’s too good 
a bet to overlook. D ’ye know it ’s a crime, a positive 
crime, to hide such a glorious talent. I can’t get 
over the way you ’ve been putting it over on us all 
these weeks! This must be why there was always a 
little stiffness in your work; the singing, I mean. 
Your violin work was always to the good, and may 
have been partly responsible for your hit, since you 
accompany your songs. I often wondered what the 
trouble was. The effort to muzzle your pipe gave that 
amateurish tone to your voice. At that your songs 
caught on wonderfully with the clientele. It ’s just 
as I ’ve always maintained: a winning personality 
carries many a bum performer along.” 


100 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


I mused regretfully over the possibility of another 
flitting in the near future. I should be sorry to leave 
the sea. I had hoped to stay on till the close of the 
summer season. But the increased income the change 
promised would be very welcome, insuring, as it 
would, a greater degree of comfort ; a nurse for baby, 
for one thing, and a furnished house in some suburb, 
for St. Louis is dreadfully hot. Besides I should be 
able to lay aside a larger amount each week for the 
rainy day — that dread bugbear of the wage-earner. 


CHAPTER XII 


“I’m Not Worthy, Nell!” 

I searched the papers the next morning anxiously. 
I dreaded the fuss likely to be made over my foolish 
slip; for anything that tended toward publicity I 
must avoid. I trembled as I read; for the news- 
papers, as I feared, made particular mention of my 
work in “II Trovatore.” They one and all laid 
great stress on the find Manager Campbell had made. 
A lot was said about my future. Some extravagant 
predictions were made, and all that, about the com- 
ing “star, who bade fair to become a shining light 
in the firmament of song!” 

I was a good deal disquieted by this, my morbid 
shrinking from notice having become an obsession, and 
during the remainder of my stay in the city was care- 
ful to keep my notes within mediocre bounds. In the 
role of “Marguerite” I made shift to preserve a high 
enough tone to please both manager and public, with- 
out doing anything likely to bring down the hue and 
cry of the press. But it took a great deal of practice 
to accomplish this; for since that remark about the 
stiffness of my work I took pains to eliminate this as 
far as possible. Besides, the mischief was done; I 
could safely allow myself a little more latitude here; 
it was in St. Louis I must exercise the greatest care. 

My time was so taken up with this practicing that 
I had little time for the necessary packing up for the 
101 


102 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


proposed move to St. Louis. I still had the violin 
solos to perform; it being still a feature of the entre 
acts. Now and then the encores forced me to respond 
with a simple ballad as an adjunct, the solos being 
exhausted. In St. Louis the violin solos would be re- 
duced to an occasional selection during the regular 
acts. It was getting on toward the early fall now, 
and the usual impetus of interest in matters theatrical 
would obtain; so no extra inducement would he nec- 
essary. 

Manager Campbell allowed me a week longer in 
San Francisco than the rest of the company. I was 
to be an entre act feature while attending to my pack- 
ing ; there being another opera company filling out the 
season at the theater. 

There was time for but one farewell trip along 
the Pacific Coast before the flitting, after all was in 
readiness. I gazed regretfully over the beautiful bay 
where it merged into the sea near the Golden Gate, 
and on to where the horizon touched the blue water- 
line. Over there to the west, I mused, lay the shores 
that Deane was but now skirting in his yacht. I had 
read in the papers that Deane Lovell was off for a 
cruise to the Orient ; that was some months ago, when 
I first came to San Francisco. There had been a sly 
reference to Lady Nan’s sojourn in Reno and a hint 
that news of an interesting nature might be looked 
for later. 

It had been some small comfort to fancy Deane 
just across the Pacific. It seemed to bring him nearer, 
somehow, to know that straight west of me he was 
cruising among the islands of the Pacific; for he had 
told me he meant to make a considerable stay in Japan, 


Grayson Plays a Trump Card 103 

in that letter he sent after he went away. I made 
my adieus with special regret, then (inland it would 
seem so much more remote) took particular interest 
in the foreign shipping in the harbor, and looked wist- 
fully toward the land of the rising sun. Rex, too, 
seemed unusually interested in everything, and I al- 
lowed myself to fancy that he had a * ‘hunch” that 
it was his last trip on the beautiful waters. I passed 
up the obvious conclusion that it was only because 
we had not been for a while, that he babbled so de- 
lightedly and clapped his dimpled hands so ecstat- 
ically. 

When the break had actually occurred, and we 
were settled in comfortable quarters in St. Louis, I 
set myself to the serious business of perfecting myself 
in the art of singing well in a much smaller voice than 
the one with which nature had endowed me. 

But it was harder to maintain this policy of re- 
straint in the new work than it had been in the old. 
Often I forgot myself in the beautiful strains and 
grand scenes, and found myself reveling in the sweet 
high notes in the interest my roles had for me. It 
was a passion with me to interpret the thoughts of 
the great masters, both as to music and acting; and 
it was a cruel trial to curb my enthusiasm in the way 
I was obliged to do. My voice at times soared many 
volumes above the prescribed bounds; and at such 
crises, in order to cover these slips, I turned round 
and deliberately flatted the next phrase slightly. And 
the papers next day would be full of praise, of a 
temperate sort, for the promising young singer who 
would, no doubt, some day conquer her fatal tendency 
to sing off key during an important strain, and then 


104 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


there would be another great songstress added to the 
roster of America. 

The box-office receipts were flatteringly large, de- 
spite my temporary lapses. Manager Campbell would 
haye it that it was because of them! And we were, 
as he predicted, “ making good with the dough.” 

My stay in St. Louis was made memorable to me 
by a curious incident. We were settled in some apart- 
ments in the suburbs, away from the burning heat. 
I had not had time yet to manage the furnished cot- 
tage I longed for; it took up too much of my time to 
practice just now. 

I was out with baby for our daily airing one Sun- 
day afternoon. The weather was cool and pleasant, 
for a wonder, and I had wandered farther than I had 
intended on first setting out. I was just thinking of 
turning back, when some Indians on exhibition be- 
fore a moving-picture house caught Rex’s attention. 
They were gayly panoplied in the full regalia of the 
war-path; majestic many-colored feathers, war-paint, 
tomahawk, and all. Rex registered a decided protest 
when I, not noticing the brilliant spectacle, wheeled 
him absently by, my mind on other things. He 
stretched up his little arms pleadingly from his go- 
cart and said, “Pitty! Pitty!” pointing back at the 
gay scene. 

Rex was now seven months old, and a wonderfully 
forward child for his age; every one said so. And, 
indeed, he does talk quite a bit, and begins to take 
a few faltering steps, holding on by the walls of the 
room. His abundant golden curls and dazzlingly fair 
skin are the wonder of the little assembly of actors and 
actresses with whom my lot is cast. 


Grayson Plays a Trump Card 105 

Baby clapped his tiny hands, when I turned back, 
in great glee over the gay paraphernalia with which 
the dignified braves and squaws were bedight. 

“Pitty, muvver; pitty!” he kept saying, as I 
wheeled him as close to the little group as I could 
for the press, which soon gathered close at the earnest 
solicitations of the ticket-seller. Indeed, I had to 
take Bex up at last and hold him in my arms, so 
that he might see the bright colors that he loved. 

This was decidedly a new departure in moving- 
picture houses, this “free show” business. It smacked 
loudly of the circus side-shows, as the agent, quick to 
see the advantage the interest of the crowd gave him, 
incited his Indians to fresh pow-wows, at the same 
time setting forth, in a raucous voice, the merits of 
the spectacle with an air that plainly showed him to 
“the manor born,” as far as circus haranguing went. 

“Walk right up, good people. It ’s only a nickel; 
five cents!” urged the humble disciple of Cicero. 
“See the wonderful daylight moving pictures. The 
exclusive rights to these marvelous pictures are ours , 
exclusively, I want to tell you! See the wonderful 
Indian princess; the one and only present reigning 
princess in America [with a mendacity worthy of 
Ananias]. Warbles like a nightingale; dances like a 
fairy. Walk right up, good people. She ’s alive on 
the inside. Walk up; walk up, my friends!” with a 
sudden burst of intimacy. “It ’s only a nickel, five 
cents. Kemember, she ’s alive on the inside.” 

“Trot out her nibs — give us a look,” clamored 
one skeptical gamin, and this cue given, the cry was 
taken up generally till the hawker, who evidently 
knew his audience, was fain to comply with the in- 


106 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


sistent demand to “come across with the fairy, if 
you’se expects us guys to flirt de mazuma;” and here- 
with the raucous-voiced vanished behind some gilded 
doors, reappearing a moment later leading a radiantly 
appareled Indian girl by the hand. 

The girl held herself proudly erect, except when 
she made a little obeisance with a regal air, to right 
and left, at the instigation of her conductor. I had 
only a fleeting glimpse of her face, being more occu- 
pied with the quaintness of her garb, the silver fillet 
that bound her raven hair and which held in place 
the two cardinal feathers at the crown of her head. 
A tall spectator stepped in front of me at this stage, 
and I shifted my position again and held baby up 
so he should miss nothing; so I lost the opportunity 
to see the girl’s face, having more regard for Rex’s 
rapt expression of enjoyment than the entertainment 
that followed, which was of a very boisterous nature 
for a space, judging by the thud, thud of mocca- 
sined feet on the improvised dais, and the “yip, 
yip-a-yee-ee ! ” of the braves. 

Then this part of the business over, all at once a 
voice soared up above the hubbub — a voice rich and 
sweet, low-toned and tender. I held my breath. 
Could it be? I elbowed my way insistently forward 
trying to get a sight of the singer’s face, but in vain. 
It was maddening — oh that voice! How it carried 
me back, back over these last weary months! How 
it thrilled me with the memories it brought of all that 
home had meant in the days that were gone! 

The singing sounded strangely muffled; it had al- 
most died away when I finally succeeded in worming 
my way through the press. The Indians were being 


Grayson Plays a Trump Card 107 

hustled through the gilded doors, and my opportunity 
was gone. But what of that? Surely I knew that 
voice — ocular proof was superfluous. It was only a 
short chorus of a popular song that the girl had sung, 
oh so plaintively! and only a part of that had been 
distinctly audible; for the astute man of business 
had cannily shooed his attractions inside at the 
psychologic moment, when the interest of his auditors 
had been fairly whetted. But surely, I could not be 
mistaken. But the manager had taken up his old 
theme where he had left off 

“ Right this way, good people. Here you are, 
only a nickel, five cents ;” ending up as before with 
the dark, inscrutable statement — “ remember; she ’s 
alive on the inside .’ ’ 

I waited with what patience I might till the 
crowd had either succumbed to these blandishments, 
or repudiated them for the rival attraction of a more 
established nickel emporium close by. Then I made 
bold to approach the wide-awake agent, who was now 
making eyes at a simpering female behind the glass 
ticket booth, and made a few inquires. 

Oh, yes, I could have a private talk with his 
Indian princess, if I thought I knew her ; and a good 
thing, too, if I could wake her up a bit. A little 
more ginger would take better with the crowds. Per- 
haps a face she knew would rouse her; she was not 
much of an attraction in her present dreamy state. 
Would I step this way? 

4 'This way” took me through a dark little passage 
between some tall buildings, to a side entrance that 
gave into a small room, very shabbily furnished. I 
could wait here, I was told, till the end of the per- 


108 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


formance; he would send the girl to me, and with 
a flourish of his cap, he wheeled the go-cart into a 
corner for me, and went out. 

I put Rex back into the cart and wheeled him 
nearer the open window. 

“Would I find I was mistaken, after all? Could 
there be two such voices in the world? Was I about 
to meet with a bitter disappointment? The next few 
minutes would decide. I walked up and down im- 
patiently, quivering with hope one minute, my heart 
sinking within me the next. 

It seemed hours before a slight stir in the passage 
presaged the advent of the critical moment. Some 
one turned the handle of the door, it opened slowly, 
and a quaint figure stepped with languid dignity 
across the threshold. 

One look at that grave, sad young face was enough 
for me. 

* ‘ ’Nita ! ” I reached her side with feet that were 
fairly winged. 

Her great, black eyes widened with surprise and 
joy, then she dropped them abashed, and covered her 
face with hands that trembled piteously. She shrank 
away sorrowfully when I would have kissed and put 
my arms around her. 

“No! no! you mustn’t. I ’m not worthy, Nell! 
Oh, what must you think of me?” Her voice was 
scarcely audible, though the words were spoken with 
the deliberate enunciation I remembered of old, each 
syllable distinctly separate from its fellow, and 
withal a purity of accent characterized her speech 
that was very pleasing. But then, she had been an 
apt pupil, we had spared no pains with her educa- 


Grayson Plays a Trump Card 109 

tion; and she was very young when father found 
her in the arms of her dead mother, out in that snow- 
bank. 

“Oh Nell! Nell! if I had only confided in you — 
I see now, too late, that everything would have been 
different if I had told you — but I ’ve been punished 
sorely, grievously for my credulity — and the wicked- 
ness of leaving you without a word. I see it all, now. 
Oh, I was mad, mad! and blind — ” 

But I refused to let her go on. I kissed her 
tenderly and called her my poor, betrayed little sister. 
She broke down at that and sobbed heart-brokenly. 
It was the first time I had ever seen ’Nita shed a tear; 
always she had borne the childish trials and vicissi- 
tudes of our common lot with a fortitude, a stoicism, 
that called forth father’s highest praise. Indeed, his 
admiration for the little ’Nita knew no bounds, and 
as I had taken a violent fancy to her, he prevailed 
over mother’s objections and formally adopted her. 
From the first father said she had the making of a 
little heroine in her, and he never tired of recounting 
to his intimates (when the child was out of hearing, 
of course) examples of her sturdy self-reliance, her 
bravery in facing such a new life alone, when every- 
thing must have seemed strange indeed to the little 
savage. And these cardinal traits only increased as 
the years went by. 

“She has the right stuff in her; she will be able 
to blaze out life’s trail with capable hands. Oh, yes, 
’Nita will take care of herself, all right!” Poor 
father ! he would have been sadly grieved if he knew 
to what a pitiful pass his little favorite had come. 

By and by she raised her head and wiped away 


110 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


the tears determinedly. And then, after I had soothed 
and tranquillized her a little, the whole story of her 
trouble came out. 

“No, Nell; don’t say anything kind to me. I 
can’t stand it after all that ’s happened — but oh, you 
must believe that I didn’t know — how could I? when 
all the time you scorned his attentions so deter- 
minedly. I never dreamed you would marry him,” 
she broke out, after we had had a long talk in which 
she learned for the first time of my marriage. ‘ ‘ Why, 
he told me himself, when he persuaded me to go away, 
that you wouldn’t look at him! I thought I should 
be his wife — he made me believe that was his only 
thought. Oh, yes, I was punished for leaving you 
without a word — that was his doing, too; he said it 
would be best, and I obeyed him blindly. When I 
had fathomed his purpose, I was up there in the 
lonely fastnesses. I tried to get away, oh, Nell, I 
really made superhuman efforts to escape him, when 
he endeavored to excuse, with plausible phrases, the 
non-appearance of the priest whom he said he had 
engaged to perform the rites. It was only a matter 
of form, it wouldn’t make any difference, he assured 
me. I should always be his dearest wife, always, 
and so on and so on! I finally ran to the edge of the 
clearing, when he had relaxed his vigilance some- 
what, thinking he had convinced me, but he overtook 
me, forced me back and locked me up. Oh, Nell, 
Nell! men are devils, devils! What I have suffered 
I can never make you understand — ” 

“Oh I know, nobody better, ’Nita — remember, I 
am his wife; I ’ve had my bitter taste of the cup as 
w r ell. If it hadn’t been for a dear friend’s fortunate 


Grayson Plays a Trump Card 111 

intervention, your experience and mine might have 
been identical; except that in my case the brute was 
protected by the tie of marriage. But I am far more 
to blame than you — more culpable in every way. You 
were basely deceived — I, well I married Howard with- 
out loving him; married him for his filthy lucre — ” 

“Oh, you will never get me to believe that!” in- 
terrupted ’Nita, emphatically. “Didn’t I hear your 
mother pleading with you to give in for her sake — 
it was to make her last hours easy, I know that well. 
Your manner to him was unmistakable — it was that 
which made me give in to his plans. I reflected that 
you would be free from your mother’s importunities 
when we were gone. He made me believe that he 
would write and tell you all about it, later.” 

“Well, I should have held out,” I said to her. “I 
ought to have known mother was too enfeebled by 
sickness and sorrow over father’s death to know 
what was best — ” but ’Nita was paying no heed to 
me now. Bex had broken out into voluble baby- 
language, apostrophizing his teddy-bear in a little 
way he had. 

“Why!” exclaimed ’Nita, looking over toward the 
go-cart in a surprised kind of way. “Why, I didn’t 
see — ” she broke off suddenly, and a spasm of anguish 
crossed her face as she watched the dimpled, pink 
fists moving idly to and fro. At that moment baby 
looked up and smiled at her — that fetching little grin 
of his that never failed to subjugate its object. 

’Nita hastened over to his corner as though fas- 
cinated. 

“Oh, the dear, sweet thing; whose bonny babe 
are you, honey, anyway,” she exclaimed, taking the 


112 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


child in her arms and cradling him up to her breast 
yearningly. I noted with surprise the absolute ease 
with which she handled the child, adjusting the 
troublesome skirts with practiced fingers. This, to- 
gether with the tearful expression of her pensive 
eyes, told me that there had been a still darker 
chapter in her past — a chapter whose tragic close was, 
no doubt, responsible for that air of solemn sadness 
and aloofness, of entire detachment from extraneous 
things, which, now that the excitement attending her 
unexpected meeting with me had subsided somewhat, 
became every minute more marked. 

I was struck with this the minute I saw her stand- 
ing there in the doorway as if turned to marble. It 
was as if she were absolutely dead to the stir and 
life about her; as if everything were over for her — a 
hopeless sort of calm held her enthralled. And how 
beautiful she was, my ? Nita! — so full of the calm 
majesty and dignity of her race. Her face was dark, 
but a lovely red glowed through the rich, olive skin. 
From her father (a gentleman of noble blood, who 
married her mother while on a tour of the "West in 
quest of his health, but who had died wdthin the year 
afterward) she had regular features, so regular that 
they seemed chiseled from marble; her hair, black 
and straight though it was, had a softness and fineness 
not often found among the Indian race. It hung 
down her back in two thick plaits reaching far be- 
low her knees, and was held in place by the silver 
fillet, garnished with the inevitable red feathers that 
lent so quaint an air to her garb, augmented as it was 
by her betasseled dress of buff and cardinal skins. 


CHAPTER XIII 


“The Roadway of My Heart” 

“Oh, Nell, what a darling child — I wonder — 
what!” as she saw my smile of prond proprietorship. 
“It ’s never yours ? Bless it ! bless it ’ ’ and she hugged 
him close again as though she never meant to let go. 

Rex passed his baby hands over the sad face so 
near his own. “Pitty, pitty,” he kept saying. It 
was his favorite word when anything pleased him, 
and was a custom he had from my own fond habit 
of saying, “Pretty, pretty; mother’s pretty,” in the 
foolish way mothers will. 

I saw that Rex had taken to ’Nita at once, which 
was an unusual circumstance, for he was a rather 
touch-me-not sort of baby when it came to close 
quarters with strangers, notwithstanding he would 
smile at most friendly faces. 

“Come,” I said, “we must get you out of this 
place. I can’t bear to think of your facing those 
people ; besides, it is a waste of time. How did you, 
with your talents, come to be engaged in such 
puerile work?” 

“Oh, I don’t know; I just drifted into it. I ’ve 
not been myself, Nell; Black Hawk found me up in 
the mountains all alone (I ran away from him as 
soon as possible, and found an uncertain subsistence 
from the trophies of my gun and fishing-rod) yes, 
Black Hawk found me crooning to my little dead 


8 


113 


114 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


baby — it had been dead for some days, but I was 
crazed by grief and would have it that it was simply 
asleep. He took affairs into his own hands, buried 
the child (it was six months old), and took me to his 
own Indian village, where the squaws nursed me 
through a long spell of sickness (I believe now that 
it was brain fever) ; everything seems hazy when I 
try to remember anything connected with that time, 
and I was in a dazed condition for a long time. When 
I came more fully to myself I found I had signed a 
contract for this motion picture business. I am do- 
ing my best to go through with it, but my poor head 
feels mazed-like sometimes. I am not myself at times, 
I feel that. We have only just begun to fulfil our 
contracts; it will be a hard matter to get out of it, 
I ’m afraid,” but an eager light shone in her eyes. 

“Oh, we ’ll see about that,” I told her. “I do n’t 
believe it will be so difficult — the contract for such 
an humble place of entertainment can’t be for so 
very formidable a sum,” I finished, confidently. I 
would sacrifice the whole of my modest little nest-egg 
that I was beginning to take such satisfaction in, 
before I would allow her to go on with the perform- 
ances at the little theater. 

The succeeding events proved I was right in my 
conjectures. A talk with the manager, and a pay- 
ment of a sum of money much smaller that I had 
anticipated, did the business. ’Nita said that the 
fact that Black Hawk was out of the way on a small 
matter of business made things easy for us. 

Soon the poor girl, with her few pitiable effects, 
was installed in the hall bedroom off my suite, in my 
comfortable lodgings. She still held fast to Bex, in 


Grayson Plays a Trump Card 115 

spite of all I could say; scoffed at the notion that 
she must be tired after carrying him that little dis- 
tance ; and sat with him cuddled close, her eyes fixed 
on his sleeping face. They would both have been 
more comfortable if she would consent to put him in 
his crib, as I pointed out; but ’Nita couldn’t bear 
him out of her arms, so I left off importuning her 
at last, when I saw her poor, sad face brighten 
appreciably with every moment that passed. She 
would have it that there was a remarkable resem- 
blance between little Rex and her own dead boy. It 
was as if she had him back again in the flesh, she 
declared, tearfully. 

The next few weeks were busy ones indeed, and 
full of interest. There was so much to be done, so 
many things to buy for ’Nita, an entire outfit in fact, 
and in choosing and ordering I took distinct satis- 
faction. ’Nita herself took little interest at first in 
the changes that followed swiftly upon her release 
from uncongenial work; but when everything was 
ready and we had settled in a tiny cottage in a shady 
side street, a gradual change come over her. The fits 
of abstraction to which she was subject at times were 
fewer, the cloud that enveloped her would lift, and 
then she was a charming companion for me. Our 
tastes were much alike, and we spent some tranquil 
hours together discussing a new book or a little gem 
of poetry one of us had picked up in newspaper or 
magazine. It was diverting to hear the quaint con- 
ceits ’Nita would flash out unexpectedly at odd times. 

She seemed, as time went on, to take a quiet, 
pensive sort of pleasure in the ordering of our little 
household, directing the one servant, and the occa- 


116 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


sional char-woman, in their work with housewifely 
capability. I could see that the care of little Rex, 
too, especially delighted her; he was fast healing the 
wounds that had been too grievous for the brilliant 
brain to sustain with equability. There were times 
when it was hard to believe anything was amiss with 
her; and then again she would lose hold of her better 
self, and talk wildly of Howard and the dead baby ; 
one moment declaring she would be avenged, the next 
calling Rex her poor, wronged child, and berate fate 
afresh for the bar sinister that must always attach 
to him. She little dreamed how closely the case fit 
my poor little Rex! But these spells were becoming 
less frequent as time went on, and I was not without 
hope that the new life and brighter interests would 
bring about a complete cure. And events proved that 
this hope had a sure foundation. 

i ‘It is too good to last!” burst out ’Nita one day, 
some months after we had got settled in the little 
cottage. “I ’m afraid, afraid — this heavenly peace 
that has come to me — oh yes, I ’m far too happy — 
I ’ve not agonized enough yet over my awful mistake ; 
but somehow I can’t be unhappy since I ’ve found 
comfort and rest with you and baby, Nell — oh yes, 
something will happen! I ’m afraid, afraid!” 

“Nonsense, ’Nita! You are too sensible to harbor 
such morbid fancies. ‘Forget it!’ as Mr. Campbell 
would say. Why, what could happen now?” I fin- 
ished, in a matter-of-fact tone, for her manner wor- 
ried me. I feared a return of one of her bad days, 
from which she had been free so long. 

“Well, there is Black Hawk. If he finds us there 
will be some unpleasantness; he will be furious over 


Grayson Plays a Trump Card 117 

the way I left without a word to him. I should have 
been brave enough to write a word to him explain- 
ing things. But somehow I can ’t do it ; he will come 
hovering round again, pestering me to marry him. I 
never had the heart to refuse him outright, but simply 
evaded the question weakly. If you had not found 
me when you did, Nell, I tremble to think what 
might have happened! My poor brain would not 
have been able to resist his importunities — in the end 
I should have given in, for he had some occult power 
over me in my weakened state, I ’m certain of that.” 

1 ‘ Poor Black Hawk !” I said, relieved that the con- 
versation had taken this turn — she was still herself, 
then! “I have a decided sympathy for the poor 
fellow; his savage tendencies have always had a dis- 
tinct charm for me. He is a fine fellow, though it 
is out of the question that you could care for him. 
Strange he can’t see how incongruous such a union 
would be.” 

Then, as often happened, we fell to talking over 
old days on the ranch. Black Hawk had been our 
faithful retainer there — the happy, happy carefree 
days that were gone, past re-living; gone with the 
dear parents to that far bourne whence there is no 
returning. Blythe days were those afield, when we 
were in the saddle from sunrise to sunset sometimes; 
our horses racing neck and neck over the plains after 
recalcitrant cattle. Red-letter days truly, but van- 
ished irrevocably — lost, perished utterly, with the 
dear parents now lying ‘‘beneath the cold of grass 
and mold, ’ ’ indeed ! And then we clasped each other 
dose — we two hapless victims of destiny, rocking 
back and forth in tearful distraction for a minute, 


118 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


the past coming back in vivid flashes. How sheltered, 
how protected we had been in those by-gone years! 
So safe from alarms in the haven the loved home 
had been to us — and now to what a fearful pass 
had perverse fortune and our own terrible mistakes 
brought us ! Two stray sheep we were that had some- 
how missed the road, and wandered over devious by- 
paths that had ended for us in dread pits of degra- 
dation — by-paths lined with thorns that had de- 
plorably rent the mantle of purity that we had 
striven, oh, how vainly, to keep immaculate! 

I looked back with bitter regret to my first mis- 
take — when I let mother persuade me to marry 
Howard. That was where I missed my w T ay, that 
fatal misstep — it led to all that followed; for if I 
had but held out a little longer, I should have been 
safe on the ranch, where the consequences of that 
somnambulent spell of mine would not have been so 
terrible. 

At this point ’Nita left me at an insistent cry 
from Rex, brushing away the tears as she went. She 
carried him off to our tiny garden, and carried him 
up and down under the trees, while I sat still musing 
over the bitter lot that was mine. 

I pondered with wonder over there being grace 
enough in one’s heart, to subscribe to the belief that 

“God ’s in His heaven, 

All ’s right with the world , 7 7 

when such fearful things can happen to one! Hid 
All-seeing Deity reckon things in an altogether dif- 
ferent way? Were our earthly standards at variance 
with the celestial ones? For women’ at any rate? 


Grayson Plays a Trump Card 119 

And would we, poor ’Nita and I, be accounted stain- 
less up there? I know Deane insists upon the affirm- 
ative to this query; but then he is hardly a fair 
judge — he — yes, why not admit it? he loves me too 
well to be able to adjudicate upon the case. Oh, 
Deane, Deane! How long it seemed since that sad 
farewell, all those weary months ago! How far 
away he seemed ; in what remote quarter of the globe 
did he wander seeking surcease from the pain of our 
sundering? Always there was this strange sinking 
of the heart, a lost, sore feeling when I thought of 
him and the many miles that intervened. What a 
blank life seemed ! How dull and desolate the world 
at such times! Yes, in spite of the two dear ones 
I had near me, life stretched before me drearily in- 
deed. 

It is true I had a friend and confident in ’Nita, 
and the knowledge' that I had her safe was a source 
of great satisfaction. As Rex grew older I would 
have his career to plan for and be interested in — his 
life would occupy me more fully then; it was only 
now that things were at their hardest — only just now 
that the ache in my heart seemed unbearable at times. 

Well, life, in large measure, must be for me a 
looking back, a treasuring up of the bright days that 
had been mine. I thought at last of the lines Deane 
had read to me one day in the old garden on St. 
Charles Avenue, when Howard lay convalescing. I 
had pored over them so often, afterward, that they 
came to me now readily enough. I held fast to them 
as among the gems of my collection. Yes, memory 
now held for me the charm that usually appertains 
to one who has done with active living, when the 


120 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


best lies behind one. “The Roadway of My Heart,’ * 
I recalled the beautiful lines with the ever-ready 
tears moistening my eyes. 

“A big road circles round the world, sure fine it is and gay, 
But the little boreen of my heart runs lone and far away; 

*T is winding over weary seas with many a sigh beset, 

But, oh, of all the roads I know it is the sweetest yet! 

“By common ways and common graves and common homes it 
goes; 

But, oh, its beauty no one but the soul within me knows! 

Its dawns are drenched with dews from heaven, its nights are 
tearful sweet, 

And sometimes One long crucified walks there to guide my feet. 

‘ ‘ It leads me down by purple hills, where fairies sport of nights ; 
It shows me many a hawthorn lane, the scene of dead delights; 
It clothes again with living grace the faces laid away 
Beneath the cold of grass and mold, my road of yesterday. 

“Oh, twilit boreen of my heart! the world is vague and vast, 
But you are holy with the balm of all my hallowed past ; 

You thrill me with the touch of hands my hands were wont 
to hold, 

You lure me with the light of dreams I dreamed and lost of old. 

“The big road of the world leads on by many a stately town, 
But the little boreen of my heart keeps ever drifting down 
By common ways and common graves and common homes; 
but, oh, 

Of all the roads in life it is the sweetest road I know ! ’ 1 


BOOK II 

DAME FORTUNE SHUFFLES FOR A 
NEW DEAL 


DEANE LOVELL’S POINT OF VIEW 









CHAPTER I. 


“Buck Up, Deane, and Chuck the 
Whole Thing” 

I paced the deck of the yacht impatiently. The 
beauty of the deep-toned blue Mediterranean, the 
vague, cryptic witchery of the Oriental countries were 
beginning to pall already ; decidedly I was out of tune 
with my surroundings. This tour that had extended 
to the uttermost parts of the habitable globe was 
woefully lacking as a means of allaying my restless- 
ness. This tour that I had distinctly counted upon 
to divert my mind from the worries that beset me, 
was a miserable failure, and I might as well own it. 
My party was beginning to feel the effects of hav- 
ing for a host a man whose life was a burden to him. 
They, of course, attributed this restive moodiness, 
naturally enough, to the well-known fact that Lady 
Nan was a resident of Reno, Nevada; the gossiping 
wiseacres were not slow to piece out the obvious se- 
quence of this move. Doubtless, they marveled, some 
of them, over the crass infatuation I apparently still 
had for a woman whom all on board knew to be un- 
worthy a sane man’s devotion. 

I considered it a lucky circumstance, this natural 
mistake on the part of my guests ; it gave me greater 
latitude in the exercise of my constantly recurring 
fits of abstraction. 

I stilled the captious promenading after a time 
123 


124 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


and sank listlessly into a deck chair, took out and lit 
a meditative cigar. Half a year — six whole months 
— one hundred and eighty-three days since I rushed 
from the house on St. Charles Avenue in such des- 
perate mood. How dull and empty the days since 
then! Nowhere could I find an elixir vitce for the 
dull, palpable ache the dissevering of my life from 
my little maid’s had brought about. I knew that 
life without her would be a blank, but I little dreamed 
of the blackness of despair that would haunt my 
spirit as blank day followed blank day in slow-moving 
torture. Oh, it was more than I could bear, I told 
myself, as I thought of all the circumstances and 
calculated the risks attendant upon what was soon 
to follow! 

But after Nell’s precious letter had come, that 
wonderful letter that told me my little maid was a 
mother (a mother! I could not picture it — and she 
the merest child herself, not yet nineteen), then I 
hoped to find some measure of peace, of rest in the 
thought that all was safely over. But there was 
nothing doing — the relief from pain I had so counted 
upon failed to materialize. I rejoiced that all was 
well, of course, but the terrible craving for a sight 
of that fair, sweet face; the intense longing for the 
touch of the beautiful hand, to hold it again in mine ; 
to feel my arms around her once more — oh, it was in- 
tolerable ! 

I threw my half -smoked weed overboard. Would 
the time ever come when I should dare to seek her 
loved presence again? To see my child? Would I 
ever have that happiness? But to what purpose? 
It would only be tenfold harder afterward; the dull, 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 125 


gray hours, the empty days would drag by seeming 
agelong from sun to sun just the same — nay, it would 
be worse, much worse. 

Never a babe and its mother came under my 
notice but I marked them with profound empresse- 
ment — somewhere on the other side of the world there 
was a replica of the fair picture, one that I would 
have given worlds to call mine openly. How I cursed 
the evil mischance that left the hapless ones to struggle 
on alone! Why, why, and again why must it be? 
What would the future bring? Would there ever 
come a time — But I always stopped conjecturing this 
vexed question. That way madness lay; besides all 
that lay on the knees of the gods, and a mighty uncer- 
tain quantity I had found them ! But after all, should 
I know any peace till I had had indisputable proof 
that no fresh disasters had overtaken Nell ? No ; that 
was certain. It irked me to know she must earn her 
way. Half the sum I had settled upon Lady Nan 
would keep Nell in comfort. The pity of it! And I 
was powerless — too well I knew my little girl’s pride 
to offer a penny out of my superabundance. My 
food was like to choke me, my soft bed became of an 
affinity to the rack when I reflected upon the possi- 
bility of want coming to Her. 

‘‘See here, old man, why not chuck the whole 
thing?” suggested Glen Dexter, who had come up un- 
expectedly and stood by the rail Watching me. 

“What do you mean?” I queried, startled for 
the minute, for I had fancied myself alone. Most of 
my guests and crew having gone ashore for the after- 
noon. I selected a fresh cigar, offering my case to 
Glen. 


126 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


“What do I mean? Why just this: that you are 
not up to scratch for this sort of junketing, ’ ’ with a 
wave of his hand which took in, in one comprehensive 
sweep, the spotless deck, the limitless blue waters on 
one side, and the picturesque little town on the other. 
4 4 Yes, ” with emphatic iteration, pointing his words 
by a friendly hand on my shoulder, 4 4 buck up, Deane, 
and chuck the whole thing. ” 

4 4 Why do you say that?” I demanded, tossing my 
cigar over the railing, irritably. 

4 4 There! that just goes to show I ’m right,” tri- 
umphantly. 4 4 That ’s the fourth choice Havana, by 
actual count, that you ’ve sent to the discard in an 
hour. You hardly light them, till whop ! over the rail- 
ing they go into the deep and briny. Now, I ’m per- 
fectly certain that when a twenty-five-center gets the 
can in such reckless wise there’s something on the 
tapis of a decidedly disturbing nature. Come ; there ’s 
one thing you can put in your pipe — since you disdain 
cigars,” slyly — 4 4 and that is that you ’ll have to take 
a brace in your nerve and get out of this deadlock 
life of ours on board the Queen Mab. It ’s no way 
to battle through trouble like yours, ’ ’ he finished, with 
conviction. 

4 4 Now, Glen, you don’t suppose — ” I began, only 
he cut me short, abruptly. 

4 4 No! I don’t; I wouldn’t insult your intelli- 
gence by any such misapprehension. I know per- 
fectly well that your wife’s projected divorce hasn’t 
anything whatever to do w T ith these mad moods of 
yours. The sooner you ’re free the better you ’ll like 
it; that ’s a cinch. But all the same, whatever it is 
that ’s in the wind, you ’re taking the wrong way to 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 127 


exorcise the demon of unrest that possesses you. No, 
what you need is to stamp these restless hoofs of 
yours on terra firma once more; to tramp over vast 
distances till you ’ve worn yourself out. Your pillow 
of nights would not be thumped into a cocked hat 
one minute and crushed into a flat pancake the next. 
Oh, yes,” as I opened my eyes somewhat widely at 
this prescience, “your hollow eyes ‘the morning after’ 
are dead give aways!” 

“I expect you ’re right,” I muttered, getting up 
and shaking myself impatiently. “Glen,” with 
sudden determination, “you are infinitely to be 
trusted, I know; I ’ve a mind to make a clean breast 
of it — I ’m in a devil of a scrape — a more miserable 
beggar doesn’t exist than I am! When I think of 
the hash I ’ve made of my affairs I feel like the 
traditional thirty cents! Oh, it ’s not my marriage 
alone I ’m meaning, though that was a bitter experi- 
ence enough, heaven knows, and everything that came 
after hinges upon it, in a way. No, the dickens of it 
is I ’ve involved a lovely little girl in the very deuce 
of a mess; one that for diabolical uniqueness is abso- 
lutely without a parallel. I don’t know what kind 
of a pattern the reprehensible old Females with the 
distaff, the thread, and the shears expect to evolve 
from the tattered patches they ’re putting together, 
but certainly in the making it seems the very craziest 
piece of patchwork extant,” I finished, bitterly. 

“Why, Deane!” exclaimed Glen in an astounded 
kind of way. 

“ So ! there ’s a woman in the business ; I might 
have guessed it; they ’re at the bottom of most 
troubles with symptoms like yours.” 


128 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


He looked me over with speculative eye a minute. 

i ‘Why not!’ ’ he broke out suddenly. “See here, 
old man, maybe you have n’t so much to despair about 
as you think; you haven’t seen the whole quilt 
yet.” 

“Quilt?” I repeated, stupidly. 

“Why, yes. The crazy patch- work you claim the 
Pates are a-weaving. The separate pieces of a puzzle 
look like the very Old Scratch before they ’re put 
together. Wait a bit, give the Old Girls a show, and 
your own affairs may pan out that way; you will 
soon be free yourself, things will then take a turn,” 
he ended, hopefully. 

“No such luck, Glen. No, N — , the girl I love is 
bound by her conscience to a brute who doesn’t de- 
serve her. Nevertheless I subscribe to her scruples; 
she is right; I see that now. If the fellow was him- 
self — but there is small chance of his ever recovering 
fully, rather the other way about it; he ’ll probably 
get worse and end miserably, which will be the death 
of hope for me,” I finished, gloomily. Then seeing 
Glen’s mystified expression, I recounted the whole 
story of the entanglement Nell’s unlucky walk that 
night in August had brought about. 

I kept nothing back but the names; I could not 
bear to name my little maid out brazenly in this 
connection, even to my most trusted friend, safe as 
the knowledge would have been with him. Glen’s 
face was a study as I proceeded, and exclamation 
points figured largely in the comments that burst 
from him from time to time. 

“Well, I ’m beat!” he said when I had finished. 
“If I didn’t know you, Deane, I ’d swear you ’d 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 129 


been indulging in hasheesh. The whole tale sounds 
for all the world like a pipe. And you really mean 
to tell me that this is the straight goods you ’re giving 
me? Really! and you say there is a child! "What 
a devil of a mess ! To think of it ! I do n ’t wonder 
at your state of mind; and the brute of a husband 
queers the whole game by going off his nut. See 
here, are you sure the whole thing ain’t a hoax — I 
mean — hang it Deane, at the risk of making your 
dander raise I ’m going to make a remark: How do 
I know but you ’ve fallen for the baby-stare. This 
tale of the somnambulistic stunt — you have only the 
girl’s word for it, I deduce? Hold on a minute; 
keep your hair on ! Just consider the thing from my 
point of view. I have n ’t seen this girl, I merely 
judge from cold facts ; tell me, you ’re a doctor, would 
it be possible for this contretemps to take place — ” 

“Yes, it would,” I interrupted, sternly. “I ’ve 
heard of cases where the sleep-walker fell from a 
second-story window, picked himself up, and walked 
several feet before waking, absolutely unhurt. Oh, 
yes — ” 

“Well, Deane, you should have gone away at 
once. I understand the yacht was ready to go almost 
at once after this — there is where you made your 
mistake — you would have escaped all this suffering 
since; the girl might have made it up with her 
husband — ” 

“No, Glen, that ’s where you ’re wrong,” I broke 
in, and gave a brief account of Grayson’s entangle- 
ment with the Indian girl. “Besides, what would 
poor N — , the girl, have done, left alone to face her 
husband ? No, no ; I ’m glad I was by to stand up for 


9 


130 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 

her when she learned the truth. He was soon unable 
to taunt her with his vile suspicions. I lay that — ” 

“And you say there has never been any word of 
the Indian girl — wait a minute, that reminds me,” 
fishing in his coat pockets a moment. “Here, is this 
yours? I found it on the dressing-room floor just 
after you came out, awhile ago,” and he thrust the 
locket into my hands. “I had the nerve to examine 
the beautiful face within, especially as it had burst 
open in its fall. Tell me, Deane, is this the girl you 
love?” 

He waited somewhat anxiously for my reply, I 
thought. 

I too was anxious, and regretted for the minute 
pouring my troubles out the way I had, great as the 
relief had been to voice my disquiet. I could not 
bear to have my little girl stared at in this way; 
under the circumstances I felt it rather a profana- 
tion. To talk over the business had seemed imperative. 
I had suffered in silence till I could stand no more. 
Glen’s prescience of something amiss had come upon 
me so suddenly I blurted it all out before I could de- 
bate the advisability of speaking. Now — all this 
flashed lightning-like through my brain during the 
seconds that elapsed while I turned the locket right 
side up. The first glance reassured me. It was the 
face of ’Nita that I saw; the inner shrine where 
smiled my dear one’s great, brown eyes was intact; 
it was only the first lid that opened. 

“No, this is ’Nita, the little Indian girl I told 
you about. I ’ve a good mind to make a search for 
her, after I ’ve tried to see how it fares with my poor 
little maid. It would afford her immense satisfaction 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 131 

to get at the bottom of 'Nita's troubles, and know 
where she is,” I returned, and I could have sworn 
the anxious expression passed from Glen's face the 
minute I had told him it was the Indian girl. A great 
pity that turned to grim sternness grew in his eyes 
as he took the locket from my reluctant hand and 
studied 'Nita's lovely features. 

“A man that could deliberately betray a girl like 
that ought to have his head punched to a jelly ! I 'm 
glad you did for him, Deane,” his hands clenching 
and unclenching spasmodically. “I only wish I could 
take a slam at him — the big stiff — I 'd knock him 
into the middle of next week ! A girl like that ! ’ ’ 
“Why, Glen!” I could not help saying, for he 
spoke with unusual heat. ‘ 1 How oddly you say that ; 
one would suppose you were especially concerned, 
a — a — brother at least — ” 

“Nonsense!” he spoke hastily, and his face 
changed color in a moment. “You 're always making 
a fuss yourself about the — the — well, the general cuss- 
edness of the morals of the present generation of men. 
I 've heard you holding forth at a great rate — you 've 
no monopoly of the theme — ” 

“Oh, I — everybody knows I 'm a savage when I 
get on the subject. But you , Glen — it 's the first time 
I ever knew you to wax eloquent on the subject, and 
you 've met up with like cases often and often. 
There was that scoundrel Blake, who lured so many 
girls to ruin; some of them we had a distant knowl- 
edge of, too. But a simple 1 Too bad ! ’ in a preoccu- 
pied, it 's-nothing-to-me-anyway sort of tone, was the 
sole evidence you gave that anything out of the com- 
mon had occurred. You were too young to realize 


132 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


the enormity of these things, or — so I Ve always 
thought — your own affairs have occupied your mind 
heretofore.” 

* 1 Well, hang it ! Deane, this seems different, some- 
how. The atrocity of the thing strikes me on the 
raw, I confess,” he exclaimed, in a distinctly puzzled 
tone, as though at a loss to account to himself for 
the circumstance. “Besides, the face haunts me. 
There ’s a look of tragedy in the great eyes, a pensive 
sadness, a brooding melancholy. It is as if she had 
had a hunch all her life that some unhappy fate 
was in store. It ’s a beastly shame ! — a beautiful girl 
like that — ” 

“Take care, Glenn! I ’m beginning to have 
my suspicions. Has the psychological hour struck at 
last? Pity and love! — you know the answer. Is it 
possible the idol of several seasons is going to lower 
his standard at the first glimpse of a little unfledged 
Indian maid?” For the life of me I couldn’t for- 
bear giving this little dig. There was a touch of 
deliberate malice prepense in it ; for I could n ’t bear 
to see the beggar letting himself go in this off-hand 
fashion; I had his interests too much at heart — be- 
sides at this time I hadn’t met ’Nita. 

“Rats!” was Glen’s elegant rejoinder. 

He squared his shoulders suddenly with an im- 
patient movement. 

“Can’t a fellow take a moderate sort of interest” 
(Moderate? Oh, Glen!) “without giving rise to such 
inferences?” 

I could see that my remark had sort of broken 
the spell. With full consciousness of where he was 
at, he might be somewhat on guard; the probabilities 
;were that the affair could be checked in its inception. 


CHAPTER II 


Back Trails 

Glen was a particular friend of mine. I had his 
interests specially at heart; it irked me to think of 
his bright youth, so full of promise, clouded by so 
sad an entanglement. Life had proved hard enough 
for him in these later years as well as for me. His 
mother’s death, a year or two previous, had cut him 
up dreadfully. He has never been the same since. 
And now his father’s sudden death, about the time 
of my return to New York from New Orleans, had 
precipitated a sort of panic in the money market. 
There were some losses, I understood, and until some 
stocks righted themselves Glen would he decidedly 
down on his luck. 

I found him mooning away his time looking for 
something to do when I was making up my yachting 
party; so I offered him the position of captain (after 
he had flatly refused to he one of the guests), he 
having been accustomed to officiate in that capacity 
on his father’s yacht when the regular factotum was 
laid by the heels, as frequently happened, by a mild 
fit of the D. T’s. 

I looked at Glen now as he stood stretching his 
handsome length against the bulwarks near which I 
sat in my steamer-chair. A well-set-up young fellow 
he was ; debonair and comely as one could wish to see. 
His white skin, which neither sun nor Wind had any 
133 


134 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


appreciable effect upon, together with his fair curly 
hair, gave him a clean, well-groomed appearance very 
pleasing to look upon. And he deserved all the ad- 
miration his fair friends lavished upon him, for a 
better, cleaner-living young blade never existed than 
Glen Dexter. He was singularly unspoiled for the 
favorite of fortune he had been till the crash came. 
But then his father, like mine, had been wise in his 
day and generation, and had trained his son for a 
special vocation; had early instilled into the boy, by 
both precept and example, together with the practical 
working out of the same, the saving grace of work. 
Hence Glen, as well as I, grew up without being sub- 
jected to the pitfalls that beset the average idle-rich 
son. 

Glen had a long head on his young shoulders; he 
would soon make a name for himself in his chosen 
profession — the law. Unless he belied the promise of 
his early years, he would make his mark when he 
had recovered from the unexpected disasters that had 
overtaken him. 

No, a girl ‘ 4 with a past” like ’Nita’s was not the 
wife for Glen, I said to myself, as I reviewed these 
things. What he needed was a hopeful, cheerful soul 
with no sad memories to dim her brightness, no cor- 
roding cognizance to burn her soul with its feverish 
pain; a wife who would drive away the clouds that 
had darkened his life, by the very blitheness within 
her. 

How little we reck, as we take upon our incompe- 
tent selves the ordering of the lives about us, of the 
real needs, the vital problems that confront them! 
How we blunder and flounder about, trying with all 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 135 


the good intentions in life to make things come right, 
according to our lights, when all the time it ’s a fifty- 
to-one shot we are only making mischief that will 
cause the fates to work overtime trying to unravel 
the tangled threads and pick up the dropped stitches 
our clumsy handling has wrought into the fair fabric. 
Here was I, trying to plan out Glen’s life for him, 
when all the time — but that is for a later telling. 

‘ ‘ They ’re off ! ” quoth Glen, at this point, inter- 
rupting my fit of abstraction whimsically. ‘‘Away 
you go again into another one of those dun-colored 
brown studies ! I ’s just as I said a while ago. Why 
don’t you just naturally fade away from all this 
forthwith? Wish you ’d take me with you,” in semi- 
wheedling accents. 

“Why, are you tired of the sea?” I asked, in a 
surprised kind of way; for Glen had said more than 
once that he only lived when he felt the slant of a 
vessel under his feet, and he had the limitless waters 
for horizon line. 

“Oh, no; not exactly. But the truth is I ’ve got 
cold feet when I contemplate the monotony of life 
aboardship without you,” the rascal complained, in a 
lugubrious tone of voice. 

It was such a palpably barefaced bid for an in- 
vite to help in the quest for the missing ’Nita that 
he who ran could have no difficulty in reading. I 
took out a fresh cigar, bit off the end meditatively, 
and lit up with great deliberation, Glen watching the 
proceedings with distinct interest in my next words, 
which, from his impatient movements, I saw he found 
long in coming. 

After all, I reflected, if he could come face to face 


136 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


with the Indian girl it might disillusion him com- 
pletely. Photos were often deceitful. We might find 
her somewhat coarse and large-featured (though I 
confess I saw no indication of this myself) at close 
quarters. Coarse people often appear better in pic- 
tures than handsome, fine-featured ones. My mind 
was made up in a moment when I considered 
this. 

“Oh, all right, old man,” I said, carelessly, as if 
it mattered little to me; “it ’s up to you. If you 
care to cast in your lot with me in the undertaking 
I mentioned, come along; you ’ll be of infinite service 
to me in following up probable trails for the girl, 

’Nita, while I try to find out how it fares with N , 

the girl I love. I feel that this uncertainty must be 
cleared up.” 

Glen thumped me on the back approvingly while 
he thanked me. 

The matter was easily arranged, since, unknown 
to himself, Glen’s position of captain was a good 
deal of a sinecure, the bona fide captain masquerading 
all the while as first officer, an unnecessary position, 
of course; but Glen had put it down as a piece of 
extravagance on my part. It was a simple matter to 
invent a wireless message (Glen’s idea) calling me 
off, on the plea of urgent business at home. 

We got away much easier than we had antici- 
pated. There was not a really dissentient voice heard ; 
nothing save the half-hearted, conventional expres- 
sions of regret that usually attends upon the speeding 
of the departing guest who has worn out his welcome 
followed us the next day, as we took our places in 
the tender that waited to convey us on board an out- 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 137 

going vessel, leaving my party in possession of the 
yacht for the balance of our itinerary. 

“We ’re the original lightning change artists. Got 
’em all and sundry skinned a block when it comes to 
a quick get-away,” quoth Glen, as we settled our- 
selves comfortably on the deck of our ship, our lug- 
gage bestowed at last to our liking in staterooms ad- 
joining. 

“I ’ve a shrewd notion that they ’re just as pleased 
to shake us,” I replied, indicating my distant yacht 
with a backward wave of the hand. 

4 ‘When all the time the pleasure is ours,” chortled 
Glen; “well, it ’ll be ‘On with the dance, let joy be 
unconfined,’ with them from now on. It ’s been 
plain to me this good while that you and I are not 
strictly in their class. I ’m keen for this!” he ejacu- 
lated, bestowing his lazy length among the rugs of 
his deck-chair, anon sniffing the salt air and smoking 
prodigiously. 

My chair was . some distance away. I made no 
reply, but wrapped my rugs round me (for we were 
well out to sea, and the wind had turned chill) and 
leaned back in a preoccupied manner. Glen fell in 
with my mood at once. He was possessed of quick 
instincts, seldom failing to divine the psychic hour for 
either speech or silence, which made fellowship with 
him a delight. 

We smoked in silence, therefore; each busy with 
his own thoughts. 

Since I had decided to return to America, my out- 
look on things had undergone a distinct change. A 
feeling of excitement possessed me — a vague, inde- 
finable sense of something decidedly exhilarating to 


138 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


be met with round the corner. A certain hope had 
lifted its bright head above the dark background of 
the past. I should at least be near her — in the same 
country, at any rate ; the same skies would arch above 
us; the sense of remoteness that had oppressed me in 
the Oriental countries would not obtain. 

Then I fell to thinking of the letter Sukey had 
sent — a letter fearfully and wonderfully constructed, 
that she had dictated to her niece soon after Nell 
went away, and which let the cat out of the bag for 
fair regarding Grayson’s sudden restoration to con- 
sciousness — memory, so long dormant, had quickened 
to life once more. Nell, bless her ! had carefully kept 
this from me. Her letter simply mentioned Gray- 
son in the most general terms. She reasoned, doubt- 
less, that it could not fail to worry me to know the 
facts, since I could do naught to help her. 

Sukey ’s effusion, of course, did not say in so 
many words that her master had come fully to him- 
self; she knew nothing of the consequence of that 
blow I had dealt him. No; I simply gathered the 
truth from her account of what had occurred when 
Grayson found out the trick Nell had turned when 
she made her clever get-away. Oh, it was rich, the 
ruse she planned and carried out! I could imagine 
how furious he would be when the pseudo Mrs. Gray- 
son raised her veil and disclosed the features of an 
octoroon to his astounded gaze. I was not altogether 
surprised to read that he discharged Sukey on the 
spot for her part in the transaction, and was quite 
wild in manner for a considerable time. 

That last blow on the head Sukey says the boom 
from the fishing-skiff gave him made sad mischief, 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 139 


I ’m afraid, coming, as it did, so close upon the one 
I pelted him. No brain could stand so many hard 
knocks without suffering serious disturbance. It sur- 
prises me the last one did n’t finish him altogether. 

One thing about Sukey ’s letter puzzled me, I con- 
fess. There was an air of mystery about it that I 
failed to account for; she seemed to want to tell me 
something, yet appeared reluctant to speak out what 
was in her mind. More than once she said she wished 
she could talk to me ; there was something she wanted 
to 4 ‘git offen her min’.” What could she mean? 
From the context of the letter I gathered that it had 
something to do with Nell’s child. The language 
was very vague and rambling; she seemed anxious 
about some event that no one save herself knew any- 
thing about, and kept repeating that it was not her 
fault — whatever came of it, she (Sukey) was not to 
blame. I finally dismissed the matter with the notion 
that she was tormenting herself unnecessarily for 
some simple dereliction of duty. 

Sukey had enclosed a kodak picture of Nell and 
the child, that the niece who, Sukey remarked, worked 
in a photograph gallery, had “shot a snap of” just 
prior to the flitting. How I devoured it with my 
eyes the minute I got it in hand! 

I took it from an inner pocket now and gazed at 
it once more, as was my custom half a dozen times 
a day if I found myself alone. Glen was snoozing 
away peacefully in his chair by this time, his still 
smoking cigar dangling from his loosely-closed lips 
at an alarmingly rakish angle. I was practically 
alone in this retired portion of the deck. 

That precious picture! The wealth of the world 


140 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


combined in a lump could not have purchased it. 
How passing sweet was the tender grace with which 
the little mother cuddled up the child to her breast. 
The voluptuous softness so often noted on nursing 
mothers’ faces informed my little maid’s features 
with a beauty that was past description. And yet it 
was more than ever the face of an angel, purged, re- 
fined, and perfected by her sufferings to a loveliness 
that to me was transcendent. The child was beauti- 
ful, too, when I had eyes for him. Judging from 
the picture, it was a well-nourished, well-grown little 
kiddie; it seemed beyond belief that he was a seven- 
months child. 

My heart swelled as I looked at the mother and 
child. They belonged to me, I told myself, in an 
awed whisper; were mine , really and truly mine. 
Yes, in spite of the chasm an inexorable social code 
had stretched between, these two beautiful souls be- 
longed to me. Mine they were by almighty nature. 
I exulted in the thought that, though distances like 
unto the poles might intervene, nothing in heaven or 
earth could alter this fact. No; indissoluble cords 
bound us; a tie that no power save death might 
sunder. I studied the picture long and earnestly. 
There was a pensive sadness in Nell’s smile that 
smote me somehow. Remorsefully I bethought me that 
what was a joy to me was sad, sad trouble for her. 
It told me how the girl had suffered mentally as well 
as physically in the ordeal through which she had 
passed. My little girl ! How harsh the code of mor- 
als convention lays down for her sex seemed to me 
at this moment, when I remembered the cruel talons 
her sister women would inevitably flourish, to tear 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 141 


and rend that spotless soul if the truth regarding the 
child should ever become common property! Not 
one would believe the facts; not one would care to 
believe them. To catch some one tripping, that is 
the thing society lives for, judging from the avidity 
with which it devours the morsels of scandal thrown 
to it. 

There was one thing which gave me great satis- 
faction as I looked at Nell. She was in good health, 
the daintily-rounded figure showed that ; and her face, 
despite its expression of sadness, retained its youth- 
fully-rounded outlines. She would battle her way to 
some degree of tranquillity in time, with youth and 
health ,as her efficient allies. 

I woke up Glen at this point, and we began to 
talk over our plans for locating ’Nita, discussing the 
subject till it was time to turn in. It was settled 
that Glen should begin operations in the vicinity of 
Nell’s old ranch home, working from that point, with 
the clues likely to be found there, to ’Nita’s present 
abode, if possible ; while I remained in San Francisco 
and tried to find Nell. 


CHAPTER III 


The Search for Nell 

It was with more than ordinary satisfaction that 
I set foot upon my native soil after what seemed, to 
my impatient fancy, an interminable voyage. As 
soon as we had got our bearings and settled in a 
hotel I made the rounds of the various theaters, while 
Glen made a few perfunctory inquiries in different 
localities. He found nothing to base his operations 
upon in San Francisco, though, and in a few days 
set out for Nell’s old home, where he hoped to be 
more successful. 

I had found my own quest equally fruitless; still 
I persevered, having definite knowledge to go upon: 
Nell’s letter was dated from San Francisco, and 
Sukey had mentioned that her mistress had been 
singing here. At least Nell had been here. There 
should be some evidence of that fact left, and I would 
investigate every public place of entertainment, no 
matter how obscure, before giving over. I made the 
most exhaustive search in the likeliest places first, 
examining the names on the roster of the theaters in 
and around the city. 

But without avail. 

Of course, I reflected later, she would change her 
name. She would be forced to that course since Gray- 
son had come to himself; so the name she had taken 
in New Orleans (Helen Leigh) would be out of the 
question now. Why did I not think of that before? 

142 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 143 


I determined to sit out every attraction the town 
boasted (except those in China Town) before I gave 
up all hope of finding her. This course I followed 
faithfully in all the higher-priced houses, till I felt 
qualified to become a regular dyed-in-the-wool critic; 
but nothing came of it. I then turned to the humbler 
attractions, where the popular prices prevailed, and 
went the tiresome round of light comedy with music, 
and the lurid melodramas, with disheartening results. 

I had begun to despair when I found myself, one 
afternoon, in a little theater in a quarter of the city 
I had not yet visited. It was such a dinky, two-by- 
twice affair that I hardly expected anything to come 
of the tiresome trip. Nell, with her splendid talents, 
her wonderful voice, would surely not be wasting her 
time here. But it would be folly not to see the thing 
through now that I had come. I could never be 
satisfied else; would always have the feeling that, 
perhaps, if I had persevered, something would have 
come of it. 

The first act dragged its tiresome length along, 
and I was beginning to be bored to extinction (hav- 
ing had enough of melodrama to last me the rest of 
my life by this time) when, after the curtain fell, I 
consulted my program, I found that there was a 
special act to follow the third of the regular bill, and 
as there was a fresh, feminine name down for this, 
I must stop where I was if I wanted to see all the 
performers ; so I settled myself to another half an 
hour of ennui, that finally dragged by, seeming twice 
its usual length. 

“ There ! now Eleanor Beal's turn comes off. It ’s 
after the third act, as it used to be before she be- 


144 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


came prima donna of the company that has just left,” 
I heard a young voice saying just behind me. The 
tones were cultured, I was surprised to note, not ex- 
pecting to find any one from the class to which the 
voice evidently belonged, here. 

“Yes; no w we ’ll hear something worth while,” 
another voice chimed in. “I ’m so anxious for you 
to see her, Grace ; she ’s the only one May and I care 
for on these freak bills they ’ve had here since the 
opera company left. It used to be a good place to 
come, but lately has been decidedly ‘on the Fritz,’ 
as Jack says. But he thinks Eleanor Beals is all to 
the good.” 

“I should say she is,” broke in the first voice. 
“Wait till you see her, Grace; she ’s the dearest 
thing ! There ! That ’s her ! ’ ’ with an excited dis- 
regard for grammar, as a plaintive melody, wailed 
from a violin, touched by a master hand, rose softly 
on the air. 

The sound came from the. wings, and soon a voice, 
soft and singularly flutelike, rose in a subdued sort 
of way, gradually growing louder, as though the un- 
seen singer were coming slowly nearer and nearer. 
My pulses began to bound strangely, and the feeling 
grew stronger every minute that it was my little 
maid, though the voice was strangely weak for her, 
and I could not be sure even of the tones, familiar as 
I thought I was with them. Step by step a dainty 
form advanced into view — a strange, lissome little 
figure of medium height, clad in the quaint, bright- 
hued, short-skirted, laced-bodice garb of the old-world 
peasants of the old regime. A gay-colored, square- 
shaped, betassled headpiece, not unlike some of the 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 145 


feminine student-caps of the present day, adorned 
the wealth of sunny, red-brown hair. 

It was Nell! Yes; my little Nell — grave of face, 
unsmiling and pensive. Yet a tender light dwelt in 
the great eyes that just barely glanced up from un- 
der the curly dark lashes now and then, or anon 
fixed themselves nonchalantly upon the delicate 
fingers that swept over the strings of the violin with 
such careless ease. Every line of the bonny, winsome 
face was informed with the soft, voluptuous mother- 
look I had noted in the kodak picture. How alto- 
gether lovely she was! I thought, as I watched the 
white, rounded arm draw the bow across the strings 
with witching grace in every movement. How I 
feasted my eyes, so long starved, on that sweet face 
that was the bright, particular star in my firmament ! 
It all seemed unreal, mirage-like, this glimpse of her 
after the long months of separation. 

I forgot everything in the joy of seeing her again, 
and it was not till her act was nearly over that I took 
special note of the odd change in her voice. No won- 
der I had failed to recognize it when it sounded, lark- 
like, from the wings. Something was radically wrong 
with it. There was a restraint, a stiffness in it that 
was entirely foreign to the glorious notes that had 
taken New Orleans off its feet — as much difference as 
there is between the feeble pipe of a linnet and the 
thrilling notes of the nightingale. 

What had happened ? Had she lost the marvelous 
voice, the wonderful gift that had been hers? That 
would be a grievous pity. It was still a very sweet 
voice, its timbre of a beautiful quality; but that 
which had set it apart from all others, the soul- 
10 


146 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


moving, diapason-toned notes, glory-soaring in their 
power, were missing. 

4 ‘There! Ain’t she darling?” gushed the girl be- 
hind me, as Nell made her finale and bowed herself 
back into the wings once more. 

‘ ‘ Oh, she ’s too sweet for anything. Hush ! she ’s 
singing again.” 

A violin solo followed the song; a solo that was 
away above the heads of most of the auditors in ap- 
preciative merit; then another song, with the charm- 
ing violin accompaniment, augmented by the orches- 
tra, as before; and then Nell made her final devoirs 
amid generous applause, nor would she respond, save 
by repeated bows, to the persistent demand for an 
encore. 

I knew all along that I ought to be hastening to 
the greenroom to inquire for her, but simply could 
not tear myself away while there was chance that 
she might show herself again. I half rose from my 
seat once to hurry out, when a sentence from the 
group behind arrested me. 

“Oh, you don’t say so? Eleanor Beals going 
away? Well!” 

“Yes; this is her last performance. It is only 
by special request that she is appearing this after- 
noon. The rest of the company left last Thursday 
morning. You know she was advanced to the position 
of leading soprano while you were gone, May.” 

‘ ‘ Oh, what a shame she ’s leaving ! ’ ’ burst out the 
excited May. “I ’m simply crazy about her! Why 
won’t she sing again? Oh, oh, I wish she ’d sing 
just the refrain over, just once more!” clapping her 
hands madly. ‘ ‘ Keep it up ; keep it up, girls ; she ’s 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 147 


simply got to come out and bow once more, anyway. 
There! Now we 11 get her to sing, too. Come on! 
There ! She ’s going to — no — yes — no — yes, she is ! 
she is! Oh, good!” 

But I waited for no more, well knowing it was 
high time for me to be putting matters in train for 
my interview with Nell. At the greenroom door I 
was stopped by a tow-headed youth of decidedly up- 
to-date presence and with the bump of self-esteem ab- 
normally developed. To him I tendered my card 
with the request that he hand it to Eleanor Beals 
without unnecessary delay. 

My tone was a bit too peremptory for his nibs, 
I opined, too late ; the need for haste making me neg- 
lectful of the invariable rule of propitiatory address 
imperative with boys of this ilk. 

He just glanced in a perfunctory way at the paste- 
board, and then handed it back with a slightly bored, 
life-is-hardly-worth-the-living kind of air. 

“ Nothin ’ doin’, sport. Youse has got de wrong 
fairy by de blondine. She left with the rest of the 
crowd last week. Eleanor Jenks is a warm baby, all 
right; but Eleanor Beals? — nix on it; nix on it, old 
sport. It ’s the frosty mit for yours; see?” with a 
scornful, horizontal jerk, palm downward, of his not 
overclean paw. 

When I insisted that it was Eleanor Beals, not 
Eleanor Jenks, whom I wanted to see, he froze up 
instantly. 

“Aw, fade away; fade away! Ain’t I tellin’ ye 
there ain’t nothin’ doin’ wit Eleanor Beals? It ’s 
no jolly I ’m givin’ ye. I ’ll tell ye those — a good 
many freshies has found they ’s up against the wrong 


148 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 

fairy when they tried on the flirtation stunt with her. 
Oh, no, ye don’t; no ye don’t!” as I tried to slip 
past him in my anxiety, for time was flying, and I 
feared Nell would be gone. “What ’re you tryin’ 
on? Float, you dish-rag, float ! ” With which cryptic 
admonition he shooed me unceremoniously away from 
the greenroom door and slammed it in my disap- 
pointed face. 

There was nothing more for me to do. A minute ’s 
reflection showed me that Nell would never pay any 
attention to advances from strangers, and that, more- 
over, she had undoubtedly safeguarded herself strictly 
from surprise from Grayson by forbidding the ad- 
mission of any man wanting an interview. 

If the stubborn little ragamuffin had but consented 
to take in my card ; but the sight of the bill I tendered 
with it seemed to enrage him past patience! In any 
other case I should have commended his loyalty. 

I cast about for an expedient to get over the diffi- 
culties that lay in the way. The short glimpse I had 
had of Nell simply whetted my longing to see her 
face to face once more, to clasp in mine the hand so 
alive with tingling vitality. 

The exits must be watched, I finally concluded, 
if I succeeded in my hopes. Accordingly I had a 
look around outside, and after planning out my cam- 
paign, soon picked up a couple of men, hangers-on, 
evidently, of the roadhouse opposite, from the ne’er- 
do-well look of them. I had no trouble engaging 
them in my service, and at once stationed them to 
watching the two exits I had fixed upon in my rub- 
bering tour. One of them was the rear exit, which 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 149 


gave upon a paved alley- way ; the other was the main 
entrance, for I must not leave even the unlikely places 
unguarded. The regular stage exit I left for myself, 
believing it the chanciest one of the three. I in- 
structed the men to follow the girl (they both de- 
clared they “knew her by sight ”) and acquaint 
themselves with her destination, then report to me 
at the stage exit or the Blank Hotel hard by. 

I watched unweariedly at the post I had chosen 
for two mortal hours after the usual closing time, 
smoking one cigar after another with reckless disre- 
gard to the ascetic three-a-day rule I followed; but 
nothing came of it. One by one and in chatty groups 
I watched the female members of the company sweep 
past me, ruffed and cuffed and farthingaled, figura- 
tively speaking, “within an inch of their lives.” And 
last of all came the tow-headed youth — he of the 
saturnine grin and the bored port. 

He openly gloated over my discomfiture. Some- 
how I lost hope the minute I caught sight of his 
face. If ever there was an exposition of self-satisfied 
craft more aggravatingly displayed, it is yet to be 
brought to my cognizance. It would have afforded 
me infinite relief to administer a salutary kick to his 
conceited anatomy. Well, it was all off. Of this I 
felt sure ; that sly grin told me much, and what that 
failed to accomplish, his ornate style of oratory fin- 
ished. 

“And the villain still pursued her,” he quoted, de- 
risively. “Say, as a Bill Burns, mister, you ’re all 
to the gangrene. I ’ll tell you what I ’ll do with ye. 
I ’ll call your bluff — for that ’s all it ever amounted 


150 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


to, anyway — and put you out of misery. Eleanor 
Beals has flew the coop. She ’s miles and miles away 
on her journey to her next stand by this time.” 

‘ 1 Gone!” I exclaimed, dumbfounded at this in- 
telligence after all my vigilance. 

The imp sniggered appreciatively at this overt 
betrayal of chagrin. 

“Yes. You gotta hand it to me this time. It ’s 
the merry ha-ha for yours, and that ’s no jolly ! Oh, 
I was on to your racket all right, all right. I put 
some spokes in yer wheels within wheels, and do n ’t 
ye ever forgit it. What else did ye expect when ye 
took chances on a couple o’ souses like them?” with 
a disparaging gesture toward the two culprits lurch- 
ing into view at this moment. “The next time you 
hook up with a bunch like that , look out some guy 
don’t get to ’em with the booze. That ’s the tip 
I ’m givin’ ye. Say, it was dead easy. It was a 
shame to take the money ; honest it was ! ’ ’ And with 
a reminiscent chortle he took himself off. 

I paid the “souses” without a word. I was speech- 
less with wrath, and then marched off to the manager 
and tried by every art known to bribe that taciturn 
individual into giving me the address of the out- 
going company. 

But in vain. Here again I perceived the baleful 
officiousness of the ubiquitous tow-head. Blocked at 
every point, and by a kid half my age — I was never 
so sore in my life. He was certainly right in one 
particular — I was fain to confess it : as Sleuth Burns 
I was “all to the gangrene” — and then some. 


CHAPTER IV 


The Ghost of What Might Have 
Been 

In November, after a fruitless quest through sev- 
eral of the large cities of the West, I found myself 
once more in Chicago. I had canvassed the city 
thoroughly a few months earlier; so my present visit 
had naught to do with the search for Nell. No; I 
had given that up for a bad job long ago. She 
seemed to have vanished off the face of the earth, 
for all trace I could find of her. 

After all, I told myself, consolingly, after the 
keen edge had worn off my disappointment, what 
did it matter? I had seen her long enough to be 
assured that she was safe and well; and, from the 
conversation I had overheard between the gushing 
young things behind me that day in the theater, Nell 
had caught on with the uncertain public and would 
be able to keep the leanest of wolves from the door. 

Now and then misgivings would seize me. I would 
fancy all sorts of misadventures befalling the girl, 
and then a restless fit would come on again, to be 
exorcised only by renewed activity in compiling my 
various treatises preparatory to getting out the book 
I had promised my publishers, or by plunging into 
some particularly tough case of surgery that some 
brother physician would bring under my notice. 

151 


152 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


Glen had traced ’Nita to St. Louis, where he 
learned she had found sanctuary with a girl answer- 
ing the description of Nell, and then all trace of her 
was lost, together with Nell and the child. And 
Glen’s affairs calling for immediate attention about 
that time, we had both given over our quest and 
turned our faces eastward once more. 

A few weeks sufficed to bring a measure of order 
out of the chaos old John Wright, an addle-pated ad- 
ministrator, had contrived to get matters into, and 
I was surprised and pleased to find, after we had 
gone over the papers, that Glen was more comfort- 
ably off than had appeared at the first blush. Some 
stocks had righted themselves unexpectedly, too ; and 
a record of some excellent investments was discovered 
in an out-of-the-way corner of his father’s old secre- 
tary, where they had lain perdue all this time, owing 
to the senile methods of old Wright. So that, take 
it all in all, Glen would have a fine income. 

The overseeing of his affairs kept Glen pretty well 
tied down to his desk for a while; for it was out of 
the question to allow old Wright to wander at his own 
sweet will through the devious ways he loved to pur- 
sue haphazard-like through the business yet remain- 
ing to be settled. Glen and I should be glad when 
the last document was signed and John Wright could 
make his final devoirs as administrator of the estate. 
Accordingly, when I was called to Chicago by Tom 
Davis, an old college chum of mine, to take part in 
a delicate operation, I left Glen up to his elbows in 
formidable-looking documents. 

“So long, old man!” he grimaced, ruefully. 
“Wish I was going with you; but needs must when 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 153 


the devil — alias old Wright — drives. Give another 
look around old Chi again, Deane; maybe you can 
find some trace of ’Nit a and the Girl. You might be 
more successful this time; maybe I was the Jonah 
before. Well, good luck to you, anyway, and regards 
to Davis!” And he wrung my hand until the fatal 
ring which I still wore on the right hand cut me un- 
mercifully. 

The operation in Chicago having proved a perfect 
success in spite of dire prognostications to the contrary 
by the assembled physicians, I was getting ready to 
return East, after another fruitless search for the 
missing ones. 

Some lectures I had agreed to deliver before a 
solemn conclave of brother physicians in Philadelphia 
in a few weeks needed polishing up a bit. So I went 
to pay a last visit to our patient before setting off on 
my journey East. He was staying now at a hotel on 
Van Buren Street, having left the hospital a day or 
so before. Davis had just ’phoned up to the patient’s 
room that he wanted to see me before I left the hotel ; 
so after my interview with the convalescent, whom I 
found doing finely, I was mooning away my time 
gazing idly out of the window at the traffic of the 
great city. Some elevated trains roared past to and 
from the city with their human freight. During a 
lull in this monotonous itinerary my eyes chanced to 
fall upon a pair in the restaurant room across the 
elevated tracks. 

The room was a floor below my vantage point, 
and was a huge, many-windowed place, filled with 
tables. I stood looking across the street, rooted to the 
spot, my heart leaping at what I saw. An elevated 


154 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


train thundered past at this instant, cutting off all 
view of the huge-paned windows. The place had 
seemed all windows, indeed, and the large room was 
as open to view as if no walls enclosed it. 

A doubt assailed me as another train ran past. 
Could I have been mistaken ? I rushed to an adjacent 
table, snatched open my traveling grip (which I had 
brought with me, intending to board an outgoing train 
at the La Salle Street station, near by) took out my 
field glasses and was back at the window in less than 
no time. I adjusted the lens to the proper focus and 
looked through. 

A train from the West obscured the view at this 
crucial instant, to my intense annoyance; then one 
from the East rumbled into the line of vision, followed 
by another West-bound imp of Satan! I was in a 
fever of anxiety by this time. It seemed hours, but 
was really only a minute or two before I finally put 
the glasses up and clapped my eyes on the vast room 
opposite once more. A dainty figure in sunny brown, 
and a baby dressed in the white robes that always 
appertain to the infant of tender years, met my view. 

Yes! I thought I could not be mistaken in that 
face. Yes, it was true ; how my pulses thrilled at the 
sight ! Nell — my Nell — and the child I had so wanted 
to see ! How strongly the lens brought out every 
feature ! There ! she ’s going out again — no ; the 
baby was left behind at one of the tables ; a tall chair 
had been brought for him by an attendant. 

A rapid survey of the building and its environs, 
and a hurried calculation showed me the way I 
must take to gain the coveted vicinage. Like a shot 
I was out of the room, hurrying down the stairs, and 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 155 

thence out on Van Buren Street, dodging recklessly 
in and out among the huge traffic vans to the oppo- 
site building. 

4 ‘The Woman’s Catering Club; Home Cooking; 
Men Served , 9 ’ was the legend that met my eyes when 
I stood before the entrance, leading by a short flight 
of stairs to the dining-room above. With never a 
thought for the start I should give Nell by my un- 
expected appearance after all these months, I made 
straight for the table where I had seen the baby. The 
tables were only taken here and there on this side of 
the great room, there were many empty tables inter- 
vening, most people evidently preferring the east side, 
which looked out on a quieter street. 

For a minute I believed I had made a mistake; 
the baby was nowhere in sight. I looked about me 
distinctly puzzled, a black despair gripping me as I 
contemplated the possibility of history repeating it- 
self a la San Francisco. Had I lost my sense of 
locality, made a wrong turn, and stumbled into the 
wrong menage ? I looked across the way. No, there 
was the hotel from which I had rushed so undigni- 
fiedly five minutes ago. I could make out the very 
window from which I had seen Nell, for there were 
my field glasses perilously near the edge of the sill 
at this moment. My disturbed glances came back to 
the room once more, and all at once my eyes lighted 
upon a table to one side, set back a little from the 
others in a jog in the wall. Ah, there he was, large 
as life and twice as natural ! The alcove gave a sug- 
gestion of privacy, yet afforded the child a sight of 
the noisy trains in which his soul evidently delighted. 

1 1 Choo-choo, choo-oo-choo, hear it? hear it?” he 


156 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 

kept saying, with a knowing lift of one chubby finger, 
and a sidewise bob of his head. 

Nell was nowhere in sight, but a line of people 
with trays in their hands in a distant corner told me 
that the place must be one of the up-to-date self- 
service eating-houses, so much in evidence recently. 
Nell was probably somewhere farther up; the line 
made an abrupt turn round some serving ovens in 
the farthest corner. She would, no doubt, return 
presently bearing a well-filled tray. 

I sat down at random at a table as close to hers 
as possible, buried my nose in the evening paper, 
from which vantage I peeped round at the little one, 
near by. What an engaging little cherub he was! 
prattling away to himself in sweet baby language 
with, I was surprised to find, now and then a word 
of lucid meaning; he was very young to say things 
like that. He had on a little white bit of headgear 
that I ’ve since learned to call a “ stocking-cap.’ ’ It 
had a large, blue tassel at the end of it which seemed 
to possess great attraction for him when it bobbed 
round at every restless turn of his head. He tugged 
at it till the cap came off, revealing an abundance of 
sunny curls and a brow nobly proportioned. How 
beautiful he was ! The very image of the little Cupid 
pictures, I decided at once, only the richness of color- 
ing made for beauty of a more striking order. Those 
sweet blue eyes, looking out so trustingly at the world 
at large from the longest of dark, curly lashes, and 
the dear little dimpled hands with the pinky palms! 
Oh yes, he was the most charming child I had ever 
seen. And the gurgling little voice ! How it thrilled 
through me at every babyish note! How the cooing, 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 157 

whimsical accents, rising occasionally to a tender cres- 
cendo of shrilly notes, struck my ear with a familiarity 
acutely painful! So had the little sister I had lost 
been wont to prattle in sweet baby voice to herself 
in days gone by. How her dear, little ways and in- 
fant tones came back with a vividness that brought 
the unaccustomed tears smarting to my eyes at this 
moment ! Something gripped me hard, an impalpable 
ache, an intolerable pain, a fierce longing to feel her 
pliant little body in my arms once more, took posses- 
sion of me. And there before me sat the child of 
my love, and I dare not gather him to me in the 
natural way a father might. Of a surety my lines 
were fallen unto me in dubious, tantalizing places. 

But by and by a different mood came. The baby 
smiled back at me beautifully when he caught my eye, 
and as I listened to the baby accents a tender balm 
stole over my sore heart with each lisping word he 
uttered. To think that this was my boy, my very 
own, there within a few feet of me! My wonder 
grew as he glanced up at me shyly from a halo of 
tangled, yellow curls that gave him the verisimili- 
tude of a baby cherub. How I panted to squeeze the 
little hands hard, hard in both of mine as I watched 
them playing aimlessly in and out of the meshes of 
his cap, and over the preposterous proportions of an 
enormous teddy-bear that seemed to hold his deepest 
affections ! 

4 1 Hear it ? hear it ? Choo-choo, choo-choo ! ’ 1 he said 
to the teddy, his tiny finger upraised again in ad- 
monitory peremptoriness, as a couple of elevated 
trains roared past. His hasty movements dislodged 
the teddy-bear from its precarious position on the 


158 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


edge of the table; it fell to the floor with a soft, fat 
plop. A spasm of positive pain crossed the baby’s 
face as he contemplated this catastrophe. 

“O-o-oh, poor teddy! Teddy cwy?” he lisped 
in a shrill crescendo that broke pitifully at the last 
doleful quaver. His red lips puckered themselves up 
into an absurd button of sympathetic misery; he 
looked round, expectantly. 

4 4 Muvver ? muvver ? W ant muwer ! ’ ’ Some tears 
trembled on the long, curved lashes; but he winked 
them away bravely, tucked his little right thumb 
in his mouth and sucked away for all he was worth, 
at the same time tugging and rubbing his curls about 
over his forehead with his other hand; the picture of 
mute patience he was, seeming to derive a degree of 
comfort out of the entire proceeding, that to a rank 
outsider appeared to be distinctly non-commensurate 
with the act. 

So absorbed was I in this new phase that I failed 
to note the quiet approach of a pretty figure in brown, 
till a low-toned, well-known voice thrilled through me 
like a strain of music. 

4 4 There,” depositing a tray laden with edibles of 
a decidedly appetizing odor down at one end of the 
table. 4 4 Did mother’s little Rex have to bide all by 
his loney ? — oh, what a naughty, naughty ! His nice, 
clean cap on the floor,” brushing it vigorously, 4 4 and 
teddy, too!” 

Rex, I thought, how well the name suited him ; he 
was a veritable little baby-king. But Nell was hold- 
ing forth once more in a subdued sort of undertone, 
inaudible save to one anxiously hanging on every 
word as I was. 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 159 


1 1 Oh, what a dirty, dirty little man! Look at his 
little fists; his face, too; dear, dear, this will never, 
never do. Let mother make him all sweet and pretty 
again. Oh, no, no! must n’t cry, there ’s a little man; 
a nice-smelly-kerchief-like-this,-it ’s- just-fun !” punc- 
tuating each word with soft little dabs over the re- 
bellious mouth and bobbing chin. “Paddies next; 
wait, we ’ll put some more smelly water on. Oh, 
such a messy little Rex! Such coal-sooty little fists! 
Oh ! ” rubbing away briskly a moment. Then : 4 ‘ There 
we are, all neat and pretty once more. Now we ’ll 
put on his cap so he won’t get it all soiled and messed 
up; and here ’s a cracker for him, a nice-big-crisp- 
graham cracker! No, no! mustn’t gobble! just a 
dainty little bite at a time; that ’s the way,” and 
with that she sat down and began on her own 
neglected supper, throwing now and then a soft, 
chirrupy remark to the appreciative little cherub be- 
side her. 

How inexpressibly sweet it all was to me — this 
glimpse of the homely, little, matter-of-fact things of 
their life together. How strange to see my little 
maid (so absurdly young herself, almost babyish look- 
ing in the short-skirted traveling gown and the jaunty 
turban with its artistically-drooping plume) taking 
care of the little mite of humanity as though she had 
done nothing else since the year one ! How the wonder 
of it all grew and grew! I could not make it seem 
real, somehow. That boy Nell ’s child ! Absurd ! She 
was only a baby herself, it seemed to me. 

I had not observed the pair long before I found 
out that Nell’s whole soul was bound up in the child. 
Let him make one peep, and the mother instinct was 


160 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 

on the qui vive at once. No matter how abstracted or 
absorbed in her own thoughts she appeared to be, 
she dropped everything on the instant to classify and 
adjudicate the want, and wisely, too, no matter how 
trivial the business proved. A tight rein had evidently 
been held over the boy from the first, for he was for 
the most part decidedly tractable. A firm “No, no,” 
was often heard on the little mother’s lips when 
Master Baby took it into his head to lust after the 
good things on her plate. 

Once he cast the ascetic cracker petulently down 
upon the table beside the neglected teddy, that lay 
with arms and legs outflung in an attitude of deepest 
dejection. 

“Wex, too!” he announced, pointing one dimpled 
finger insistently at the golden custard among his 
mother’s side-dishes. 

“No, no! Rex must get all his little teeth first and 
be big, big boy before he can have dessert. Here, eat 
the nice cracker; oh, what a nice cracker,” with a 
coaxing voice, but Baby pushed it away fretfully, 
and was puckering up his mouth for a still more 
vigorous protest. “Wait, here’s a nice drink of 
water; that ’s what he wants; mother didn’t think. 
That ’s it ! Now the cracker, that ’s mother ’s good 
little Rex!” 

And actually the little rascal obeyed, protestingly 
at first, with a pouting and twisting of baby lips after 
each reluctant bite ; but finally, after sundry encour- 
aging phrases from Nell, together with some artful 
references to the ever-interesting “choo-choos” that 
had begun to rumble past with increasing frequency, 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 161 

the cracker disappeared along with a mate to it, more 
generous in size than its own original proportions had 
been. 

Nell had not yet seen me. I had instinctively 
held up the newspaper before my face all the while, 
and peeped round it at the table opposite. Besides, it 
was growing somewhat dusk, though far from lighting- 
up time yet. So Nell ate her supper in peaceful un- 
consciousness of my near vicinage, while I retreated 
to the serving stalls, by and by, supplying myself with 
a tray near the entry, and took all and sundry, in my 
abstraction, that the obliging females handed out, 
from meat to dessert and all the appurtenances there- 
to, returning presently to my place near Nell’s table 
'with a bountiful trayful of provender that would 
have taken me a couple of hours to get on the outside 
of, in the ordinary course. I nibbled at it, of course, 
as I was bound to — there was no excuse for my being 
there else — and made a show of reading my paper 
at the same time. But my whole attention was given 
to my neighbors. 

How well Nell looked, and how beautiful ! I had 
forgotten how perfectly lovely she was, I told my- 
self; and yet when I had been wont to call up her 
image in the months past, I had deemed it impossible 
for mortal to be as fair as memory pictured her. That 
charming softness maternity had brought to her ! How 
her face shone with its divine light when, the cherub 
relaxing into drowsy languor which made his little 
head bob alarmingly, Nell took him in her arms, 
where, after just lazily opening sleep-dazed eyes, he 
nestled off to slumber-land with one chubby hand 
11 


162 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


clinging round her neck, while the young mother 
finished her dessert as best she could with her one 
free hand. 

It came to me all at once while I sat yearning 
over the charming picture they made, treasuring it 
up in memory for the dreary days to come (along 
with the cadences of the voice I loved) that it would 
be a selfish thing to thrust my disturbing personality 
into their lives. Nell had won her way to a certain 
measure of tranquillity; I could see that. She was 
happy in her baby. His dear, little ways were as 
balm to her bruised spirit; though now and then a 
vague, indefinable something lurked in the great eyes 
that, to a vigilant instinct like mine, spoke loudly of 
the mortal hurt her sensitive soul was forever cog- 
nizant of, in spite of all outward nonchalance. 

How, I asked myself, could I have the face to in- 
trude myself, with all the memories the sight of me 
would call up, into her presence? She begged me to 
go, to be strong for us both, that never-to-be-forgotten 
day in old New Orleans. There was nothing I could 
do for her now — nothing. She was evidently in pros- 
perous circumstances; everything about her indicated 
that. 

But how could I leave her, I thought, drearily, 
now that I had found her again after so many dis- 
couraging failures? Leave her without a word, with- 
out a sign? Oh, it was impossible, it was too much 
to ask of me ; but my 'better self insisted that it was 
the only honorable thing to do — that I could and 
should do it. The upshot of the business was that I 
resolved in the end that at all costs to myself I must 
do what was best for Nell and her child. Oh yes, 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 163 


irrespective of what the sacrifice entailed, I must re- 
turn to New York to-night as per arrangement. If 
I stopped to hear Nell sing, as I felt I must do — 

Suddenly I wondered, since Nell was in the city 
after all, how it came about that I had not found her. 
My search had been a most thorough one, unless — 
why of course, why did I not think of that before — 
they had probably just arrived; the La Salle Street 
station was close by. But where was ’Nita? Then 
all at once I remembered that Nell in her admonitory 
remarks to the baby had spoken of “ hurrying back 
to Auntie ’Nita; poor sick Auntie ’Nita.” She was, 
quite likely, in the ladies’ parlor of the station at 
this moment, nursing a travelers’ headache. 

I followed Nell out at a discreet distance, deter- 
mined to see the last of her, marveling the while (as 
I flung down a bill at the desk, and then bolted out 
without waiting for the change) at the instinct that 
had withheld me from making myself known to her 
at the first blush. It was largely an accident, for 
Nell was not in sight when I first precipitated myself 
into the dining-room, and then my desire to see with- 
out being seen — besides there was a certain reluctance 
to startle Nell. It was a happy chance that I had 
kept putting off the denouement till wiser thoughts 
prevailed, I thought, as I watched Nell go down the 
stairs and on down the street toward the station, and 
so out of my life once more with her precious burden. 

A sense of bitter loss took possession of me when 
the last flutter of the brown willow-plume and the 
last bob of the blue and white tassel on little Rex’s 
cap had been swallowed up in the crowds that seethed 
endlessly through the purlieus of Van Buren Street. 


164 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 

Life became flat, stale, and unprofitable once more in 
the twinkling of an eye. 

Oh well ; I gave myself a mental shake-up and re- 
traced my steps to the hotel. Davis was waiting for 
me. 

4 ‘What ’s the matter, old chap? You look as 
though you ’d seen a ghost.” 

“I have,” quoth I, drearily, before I had time to 
think. “The ghost of what might have been!” 


CHAPTER Y 


A Sudden Meeting 

Davis gave me a keen look, then changed the sub- 
ject abruptly, and fell to discussing the case he had 
called me up about, in hope of persuading me to re- 
main over for a few weeks to study the case with 
him. But I was firm in my refusal. I was determined 
to put temptation out of my way; the sooner some 
hundreds of miles intervened between me and my 
little maid the better. 

In the course of an hour or so I brought Davis to 
hear reason, and bent my steps to the station with my 
handbag. I hurried through the great general wait- 
ing-room, bent on getting settled in my sleeper as 
soon as possible ; it was now verging upon nine o ’clock. 
There would be the usual difficulty in getting to sleep ; 
accordingly, the sooner I turned in the better. I 
would read myself drowsy by the glimmer of the 
electric bulb in my berth. Absorbed in my own 
thoughts, I almost ran full tilt into some travelers 
advancing toward me. A head-on collision seemed im- 
minent, as we had met dead round a turn in the wall. 

But, worst of all, as the tall figure of the young 
girl in the van swerved aside, I saw that Nell and 
little Rex were with her. There was no chance to 
avoid a recognition; I had all I could do to keep 
from knocking them down. 

165 


166 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


“Why, Deane!” cried Nell, in a voice vibrant 
with glad surprise, her face transfigured for the mo- 
ment by the light that irradiated every feature. 

“Excuse my left hand,” a warm red staining the 
ivory white of her cheeks as she glanced down depre- 
catingly at the baby on her arm. 

“Sure thing!” I said, stoutly. “What ’s the 
difH” and, dropping my bag, I held on with both 
hands to the little hand as though I never meant to 
let go. “Besides, the left hand is nearer the heart, 
you know,” I added, blundering into the trite phrase 
to cover any embarrassment Nell might feel at this 
sudden, involuntary butting in of mine. 

Just a silent grip of hands and a long, long look 
into each other’s eyes, that was all, to bridge over the 
conventional chasm that absence, distance, time, and 
a most tragic combination of circumstances had con- 
spired to yawn betwixt us twain. But a mysterious 
intangible essence leaped across to me with the tin- 
gling contact of that delicate hand and the clash of 
those magnetic brown eyes with my own — an out- 
flashing of soul to soul that shivered through me 
with a shock of exquisite pain. 

Nell’s voice rose in alarm the next instant. 

“Oh, ’Nita! Catch her, Deane; quick! She will 
fall. Bring her over to the women ’s room. Do n ’t 
faint, ’Nita; bear up just a little longer. There; 
now let her lie down on this couch. She ’ll soon be 
all right now. Oh, she ’s fainted again ! I was afraid 
of this. This is the second time we ’ve tried to leave 
the station. She ’s been trying to get rested these 
three hours. I told her she ’d never be able to stand 
the trip; but she wouldn’t listen to me and declared 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 167 


stoutly that she ’d soon be better, when I wanted to 
wire my excuses to the theatrical people here,” wor- 
ried Nell, looking anxiously at the white face on the 
pillow. 

I marveled greatly at the cameo-like beauty of the 
Indian girl, and thought grimly of my hope that it 
should prove so coarse that Glen would be cured at 
his first glimpse of it. Yain hope ! Next to my little 
maid’s, this was the loveliest face I had ever seen. 

An attendant bustled up fussily when she saw 
what was toward. 

“Here, Deane, hold Rex a minute, will you, while 
I loosen ’Nita’s clothing a bit? Take him over to 
the windows yonder, where he can see the choo-choos. 
He ’ll be good; won’t you, pet?” with a little parting 
pat of the soft cheek. 

And so it came about quite naturally that I was 
suffered to hold the pliant little body of my boy in 
my arms, after all. How my heart swelled with glad- 
ness when Nell placed him there in that off-hand 
way and gave us a little gesture of dismissal! 

“Take off his little coat; it ’s so warm in here,” 
was her parting injunction. 

Had she guessed by my recurring gaze at the child 
what was in my heart? I fancied so; at any rate I 
loved to think that, even in that critical moment of 
her anxiety for ’Nita, it was of set purpose she sent 
me away to make the acquaintance of my little son. 
Her instincts were nearly always correct; she was 
a positive seer in this respect, as I had noticed more 
than once. 

I had no idea the simple companionship of a 
baby could make for rapture so absorbing, could be 


168 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


so filled with the spirit of adventure, too. Rex looked 
up into my eyes, unafraid, but soberly speculative. 
He put out a rosy finger gingerly-wise against my 
cheek, holding the pose- tentatively , emitting the while 
a series of interrogatory grunts. Evidently there was 
no special word in his as yet rather limited vocabulary 
which he could intelligently apply to me. 

I caught the little hand and pressed it to my 
cheek gently. A little smile parted the carmine lips. 
Here was a language which he could translate readily 
enough. I caught a glimpse of some pretty little 
pearls as the smile widened to a gurgling laugh. 
What a mouthful of teeth! Truly, this child was a 
record-smasher. Why, he couldn’t be a day over 
nine months old. Maybe he could walk, too! I re- 
moved the little jacket after a hard session with the 
imps of Satan with which it was fastened — the blamed 
things seemed possessed! — but jabbing my clumsy 
fingers into the luckless infant’s eyes only a few 
times, considering. 

“Off, ye lendings,” I muttered, flinging the gar- 
ment on the back of a bench; the cap followed it. 
Then I stood the baby up against the wall and tried 
to coax him to come to me, but a choo-choo flying by at 
this instant rather spoiled things. Rex turned himself 
round, steadying himself precariously with a tiny 
hand, and watched the train out of sight. I turned 
him round again and, with one of my fingers clutched 
tightly in his little fist, got him to walk across to me. 
Then I stood him against the wall again and, with 
my arms stretched out over him protectingly, tried 
to coax him to take a few independent, wobbly steps. 
There! Almost! There; he nearly fell that time. 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 169 


But I kept on patiently till, by and by, after several 
trials and much holding out of coaxing arms, he 
came to me on stumping, unsteady little legs, follow- 
ing eagerly, with outstretched balancing hands, when 
I kept moving stealthily backward, inch by inch, to 
make his small journey into the world longer and 
longer. He was a proud baby indeed when this feat 
had been accomplished several times, laughing glee- 
fully at each successful venture and showing a de- 
cided touch of temper when I left off for a moment 
to tie the lacing of his absurdly small shoe. He evi- 
dently deemed the whole thing a novel sort of game 
gotten up for his special behoof. To me it was the 
proudest moment of my life as we went through the 
performance ad libitum, and an interested observer 
would have been puzzled to distinguish which of us 
was the more entertained, the baby or me. I looked 
at the boy with misty eyes. The thought came to 
me that I would have bartered my hope of eternal 
weal for the right to claim him openly. 

Nell came up at this moment and smiled at us 
both, when the boy precipitated himself headlong 
into my arms after some excited stumping of the 
sturdy little legs. 

“Isn’t he the engaging little tad?” I burst out 
as she came up. “See the latest? He ’s actually 
walking ! ’ ’ 

“Dear, dear, if he isn’t! He’s been walking 
round the walls of rooms and holding on to furniture 
for several weeks, but I could never get him to take 
any independent steps before. What — a — great — big 
man — y!” with a soft kiss for each word as she 
stooped over him where he pranced, clutching one of 


170 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 

my fingers for dear life, eager for more worlds to 
conquer. 

“Oh, then he ’ll walk in no time,” I declared, 
with all the confidence of a pater familias, the vivid 
memory of little sister Joyce’s experience qualifying 
me to speak as an oracle on the subject. “How is 
the sick girl?” I enquired, lifting the protesting Rex 
up from the floor — he saw no reason for the curtail- 
ment of the new stunt. 

“Oh, she ’s better; but very, very weak,” replied 
Nell, her face clouding with anxiety in a moment. 
4 ‘ I want you to have a look at her, Deane ; she has n ’t 
been well for some time. I ’m very much alarmed 
about her.” 

“We ’ll go over at once,” I said; and Nell gath- 
ered up Rex’s wrap and cap at once. 

We crossed the long room then, threading our way 
in and out among rocking-chairs and benches to the 
corner where ’Nita lay on a couch hidden behind 
some large-leaved folding screens. It gave me a dis- 
tinctly family feeling, this little walk with Nell across 
the great room, with the boy hugged up in my arms, 
his little arm flung round my neck. 

I surrendered the child to his little mother and 
got down to business, bringing my professional in- 
stincts to bear on the case with an increase of gravity 
as the moments passed. I didn’t like the glitter in 
her eyes and the extreme pallor of the delicate face. 
Some leading questions, together with the data I 
gathered from examination, soon elicited the fact that 
the girl was in the throes of typhoid. So it was a 
hurry call for the ambulance and a rapid journey to 
the Blank Hospital for her. 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 171 


I advised Nell to go at once to the hotel where 
she had engaged rooms and wait for my return from 
attendance upon the sick girl, whom I took to the 
hospital where Davis was on the staff of physicians. 
He took charge of the case at my earnest request, 
and I soon had the satisfaction of seeing the patient 
installed in a pleasant room, with a white-capped 
nurse in attendance. Then I hurried over to Nell’s 
hotel to give her the ins and outs of the business, 
well knowing she could not sleep till she was satis- 
fied that ’Nita was resting comfortably in good hands. 


CHAPTER VI 


News of Grayson and Lady Nan 

A week later I was on my way East once more, 
to deliver the promised lecture before the conclave in 
Philadelphia. I had settled myself in the sleeper at 
ten o ’clock, and tried in vain to woo the drowsy god ; 
but he would have none of me; memory would keep 
going over the events of the past week in spite of every 
effort to keep my mind a blank. I left off in disgust, 
finally, and reveled in the reminiscences of the hours 
I had spent with Nell and the boy. 

The day I had heard her sing once more stood 
out vividly in my mind. I had called at the little 
furnished cottage that Nell had settled into a day 
or two before — called ostensibly to give her the latest 
bulletin of the sick girl; for Nell had been too busy 
rehearsing and doing her regular work at the theater, 
besides settling into the cottage with her movable 
Lares and Penates, to do more than call up the hos- 
pital a dozen times a day. There had been servants 
to engage, a cook and nurse-maid (’Nita had here- 
tofore performed the latter duty), so that Nell had 
her hands full, what with looking after her costumes 
at all. 

‘ ‘Where do you sing?” I asked Nell, for I had 
been far too busy getting my paper ready for the 
convention, and looking after the sick girl, to look 
up the location of my own accord. 

172 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 173 

<4 0h, you wouldn’t be edified by the perform- 
ance,” she said, quickly, divining my intention in an 
instant. “My advice to you is to keep away if you 
don’t want to be bored to death. You would find it 
vastly different from the fine New Orleans company, 
I can tell you. And I ’ve not dared to sing my best ; 
I must restrain my voice so much it ’s a wonder I 
can keep my engagement. But my manager is not 
without hope that the time will come when I shall 
dare to sing with my usual volume.” And she told 
me how he had found out the real timbre of her voice. 

“I ’ve begun to allow myself a little more latitude 
of late,” she went on. “Howard has made no sign, 
and I ’ve begun to hope that he has gotten over his 
insane notion of revenge.” And she related his 
threats to take little Rex from her. 

We had a long talk about the probability of his 
being able to carry out this threat, and I resolved to 
look up the law in Louisiana in this regard. Then I 
asked again for the name of the theater where she 
was singing. 

“The Blank Theater, on Blank Street,” she re- 
plied, adding, a moment later: “But I will sing for 
you now, if you like. Don’t ever go out there to 
hear me ; at least not yet. The manager is advertising 
for some new talent, and we are to launch out soon 
into a higher class of work. The houses were so 
good in Kansas City during the latter part of our 
stay there — the newspapers said some very extrava- 
gant things when I permitted my voice to approach 
something of its real volume — that Mr. Campbell has 
coaxed me to try the same thing here after the new 
singers are engaged.” 


174 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


“Sing the Miserere from Ml Trovatore’,” I said, 
as she began to turn over the music on the piano, 
“and let me play for you; then you can give all 
your attention to the singing,’ ’ I added, with sudden 
inspiration. 

And then the room rang with that wonderful 
voice lifted in the moving strains of the grandest 
score that ever was written. It carried me back over 
the months to those old days in the Crescent City 
when first those marvelous tones soared up, up, 
through all the fields of space, evidently, in their 
infinite diapason. What a soul-stirring experience it 
was to listen to her! Oh, that rare voice! I held 
my breath, lest I miss one liquid note. It was richer, 
fuller than ever ; more matured altogether. The child 
must have practiced endlessly to keep that exquisite 
timbre unstaled like that ! It seemed a positive crime 
to curb it in the way she had been doing these months 
past. It was all I could do to keep from drawing 
her into my arms, so beautiful did she look in her 
little white serge gown, with the russet-brown hair 
breaking into all sorts of enchanting ringlets about 
her ivory brow and throat, and with the passion 
stirred by the music yet lingering on her moved face. 

Fortunately a subdued bang of the front door and 
a stir in the little reception hall adjoining announced 
the approach of the new nurse wheeling little Rex in 
from his airing. 

“Is that my boy?” exclaimed Nell, running out 
to him as though a week, at least, had passed since 
she had seen him. She caught him up and covered 
him with soft, staccato-like kisses, the child opening 
his rosy lips and taking in the priceless gifts with 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 175 


most unctious appreciation, as well he might — lucky 
little beggar! 

“And did mother’s baby have a nice, long ride? 
Wait, we ’ll take off these warm wraps. There he is! 
Take out the go-cart, Mary, and hang up his cap and 
coat in the little closet off the hall. There, now!” 
With a final smoothing of the tumbled halo of curls, 
she handed him over to me with the injunction that 
we settle ourselves in the back parlor while she sang 
to us with violin accompaniment. 

‘ ‘ For you do n ’t want to be deafened in here ; the 
rooms are so small, and I like to let out my voice 
to my heart ’s content at home, as some small recom- 
pense for choking it down ‘to beat the band,’ as 
Mr. Campbell has it, on the stage.” 

Voice and violin blended beautifully; Nell was a 
fine accompanist, her tones seeming to lose nothing 
by the energy the instrumental end of the perform- 
ance called into play. She stood by the large cottage 
window, her rack with the open music before her, 
while the winter sunlight streamed over her chestnut 
aureole of hair. Her attitude was grace itself as she 
drew the bow across the strings with a beautiful white 
hand. I could readily see how she had bewitched her 
audiences, if by nothing more than the charming en- 
semble the conjunction of fair maid and quaint violin 
brought into being. 

I could have listened all night, and Nell seemed 
willing to aid and abet me in the humor; but finally, 
as the afternoon began to wane, I tore myself away. 
I kissed the boy on both cheeks, and then on the 
little button of a mouth, he obligingly holding that 
member open when Nell bade him return the kiss, and 


176 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


then wrung her little hand with a fervor that made 
her wince, though she tried hard not to show it. 

I sighed involuntarily, for that was yesterday; 
and now here I lay, uselessly trying to sleep, with 
these memories running riot through my head and the 
train thundering on through the night over the rough 
stretches, rolling me up with spasmodic jerks in my 
prescribed box of a berth. 

Then I fell to wondering how Glen was taking 
to his work. He had written that matters were shap- 
ing themselves all to the good now, the estate was 
coming up to the scratch nobly, and he had begun to 
branch out in his law business a little. He had kept 
the correspondence trail between New York and “Old 
Chi” pretty hot since I had told him of finding ’Nita. 
The fact that she was coming on so nicely under 
Davis’s clever hands would be fine reading for him, 
I thought, just before I finally dozed off. 

At the convention, three days later, I met the 
doctor who had attended Nell on that memorable night 
of the opera when she fainted and was brought home 
to learn the dreadful truth that so changed the face 
of the world for her. Dr. Weddel came up after I 
had finished my lecture and made himself known to 
me. He remembered seeing me in Nell’s home that 
night, and knew me at once, having heard me address 
the city convention of physicians in New Orleans 
during the winter. From him I learned that Gray- 
son had circulated the report that his wife was in 
foreign parts, perfecting herself in her art. He was 
making no secret of his intention to proceed to Reno, 
the doctor added, where he (Grayson) was to institute 
divorce proceedings, with the knowledge and consent 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 177 


of his wife. Dr. Weddel shook his head when I asked 
how Grayson had come out of his accidents. 

“The fellow has not been himself at times; he 
does such eccentric things. There ’s sad mischief 
with his mental powers, I ’m afraid; all those bumps 
on the head have n ’t done him any good . 1 ’ 

When I asked after the doctor’s own family he 
turned decidedly grumpy and cut me off short. I 
remembered all at once that he had been called to 
Europe by the serious illness of his only son, just 
after little Rex was born, leaving his practice in the 
hands of a friend of his. The son, I had since learned, 
was in a hopeless condition and bade fair to drop off 
at any time. All this came back to me as I listened 
to the doctor, talking over the affairs of that time. 
I had forgotten — or, indeed, had not known, at least 
to place him — the doctor who attended Nell when 
her child was born ; but I soon gathered from his re- 
marks that Dr. Weddel was the man. And by and 
by the doctor said something which astounded me 
for fair. I thought at first I must be dreaming, and 
made him repeat the statement before I could credit 
the evidence of my ears. 

What strange thing was this? and Nell had not 
told me ! Of course, a minute ’s reflection showed me 
that she would hardly have mentioned it in any case, 
there was no need, if, as the doctor conjectured — 
All at once a light broke in upon me. Was this what 
Sukey meant, when she kept maundering on in her 
letter about some mysterious communication she 
wished to make, if only she could have speech with me ; 
that it was not her fault, whatever happened ? I won- 
dered. Now that I remembered rightly, Sukey in- 
12 


178 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


timated that Nell had no knowledge of the thing, 
which was one reason why she (Sukey) wanted to 
confide in me. 

To Dr. Weddel I kept an unmoved face, evincing 
no surprise at the intelligence, and no curiosity, either. 
It was best so ; it could not fail to arouse remark if 
I did. I made up my mind to make a trip to New 
Orleans as soon as I had seen Nell over the little 
worry the Indian girl’s attack was causing. Then I 
could find out all I wanted to know from Sukey. 
There was a hitch somewhere, that was certain. 

I fell to thinking over the little talk Nell and 
I had had about Grayson’s diabolical scheme to get 
legal possession of the child. It let me in on the 
ground floor for fair, regarding the panic Nell had 
had before she fled the city with the boy, like a semi- 
tropical Eliza. I am not at all certain as to the law 
in Louisiana about these things. Of course, in law, 
I suppose, Grayson’s claim would be allowed. The 
court would probably award him the child if it were 
shown that Nell had ran away. This phase of the 
matter had not occurred to me, I confess; I never 
dreamed of his taking this line. I resolved again to 
look up the law regarding children whose parents 
were separated. It might be simply a big bluff of 
Grayson’s, after all. He knew that Nell would 
shrink from going to law; believed that she would 
never have the courage to make her plea of sole owner- 
ship of the child, deeming her as averse as himself 
to the notoriety the case would excite. How execrable 
the man was! How villainous his course when he 
tried to make her believe (lest, after all, she prove 
less tractable than he supposed) that the child would 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 179 


be given him anyway, on account of the old law that 
made of woman simply the chattel of her husband, 
with no right in her children, nor to anything she 
possessed, in fact, even to the clothing on her back! 

I was forced to remain in Philadelphia longer 
than I had anticipated, an unexpected demand for 
a paper on a subject that was at that time agitating 
the minds of JEsculapiuses at large, being made with 
such earnestness that I could not shirk it, try as I 
would. I met an old college friend during the latter 
part of the convention. He had settled in Nevada 
some years previous, and had been delayed in reach- 
ing Philadelphia by a severe and complicated case, 
so missed all but the last few days of the convention. 
From him I learned that Lady Nan was still at Reno ; 
Blake had seen her as he passed through, a few days 
before. He said she was cutting a wide swath among 
the assembled company in Reno, getting in her best 
licks even among the regular residents, especially 
among the staid old fathers of families. “That was 
ever her long suit,” I remarked to Blake. He con- 
gratulated me frankly on my prospect of release; he 
had never liked Lady Nan, I remembered of old. 

It was nearly three weeks before I found myself 
in the Windy City once more. As soon as possible 
I made my way out to the little cottage. There had 
been a fall of snow, and while the chauffeur battled 
with the “ beautiful’ ’ I mused over the interesting 
things I had read in the morning papers. Nell had 
almost taken the city by storm, as had happened in 
New Orleans. Her incognito could scarcely be held 
inviolate if this thing kept up. Already the news- 
papers were hot on the trail with their bloodhound 


180 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


scent, making all sorts of probings into her past, pres- 
ent, and future; and from what I could gather from 
the heterogeneous mass of verbiage, the latter seemed 
to be the one thing of which they could predicate with 
any degree of veracity. I laughed in my sleeve at 
some of the stories of her life and the alleged inter- 
views the papers were printing — rank fabrications, all 
of them, manufactured out of whole cloth. 

One thing was pretty plain: Nell would never be 
able to sink back into obscurity again. That was made 
distinctly impossible, judging by the extravagant en- 
comiums that were being heaped upon her; extrava- 
gant, redundant in language, not in sentiment — no 
pen could be that where that marvelous voice was con- 
cerned. 


CHAPTER VII. 


“Oh, My Little Rex!” 

When I rang the bell at Nell’s abode a decidedly 
flustered maid put in an appearance. She raised both 
hands in an attitude of thanksgiving as soon as she 
caught sight of me. 

“Shure, an’ it ’s yersilf Oi ’m glad to see, sur! 
Come in, sur. Oh, divel a bit av comfort has there 
bin in the house this wake past; what wid the missis 
cryin’ her pretty eyes out and the highsterics of that 
limb av Satan, Mary, there ’s bin hill to pay, sur! 
Askin’ yer pardon fer plain spakin’, sur. But shure, 
it ’s half crazy Oi am mesilf , sur ! ’ ’ And Nora dashed 
away a distracted tear with the back of one amply 
proportioned red hand, while she absent-mindedly 
dusted off the already immaculate leather armchair 
for me with the other. 

‘ ‘Why, what ’s the trouble?” I demanded in an 
alarmed voice. This was not the reception I had 
looked forward to, I confess. 

Nora, good soul, launched forth into a confused 
string of words interlarded so copiously with her own 
conjectures that it was extremely hard to make head 
or tail of her diction and utterly impossible to get 
at the real meat of the narrative. After some quick, 
stern questioning and cross-examining I finally made 
out that Rex had unaccountably disappeared the week 
181 


182 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


before, while Nell was “on” at morning rehearsal. 
No slightest trace of the hoy could be found; he 
seemed to have vanished as completely as though the 
ground had opened and swallowed him up. Mary, 
the nurse, had been nodding at the time (having been 
out to a mask ball the night previous) and could 
tell nothing of the affair except that the child was 
missing when she awoke. 

I knew it was Nell’s custom to take the boy with 
her to each performance and rehearsal, day and night 
(the theater was not far from the cottage), and I had 
more than once pointed out to her that it was a 
rather unwise proceeding. The child’s rest at night 
could not fail to be broken by all that excitement. The 
players made much of him, naturally, and as a con- 
sequence he was kept up far longer than was good 
for him. But Nell could not bear the child out of 
her sight. She must assure herself after each act 
that he was still safe. She insisted that he slept 
enough in daytime to more than offset the later sleep- 
ing-hour of the night. “Besides,” she averred, “the 
fresh air he had going and coming would compensate 
a great deal for the other irregularities.” And, of 
course, this was true. 

I went up at once to Nell’s room in my character 
of physician, for she was prostrated by the affair, I 
gathered from Nora’s account, although refusing 
flatly to call in medical aid. 

Poor Nell! She lay with her face to the wall, 
her beautiful russet-brown hair straggling over the 
pillow in tumbled, stray ringlets, and on down over 
the counterpane in two long braids. She lifted dazed, 
grief-stricken eyes to mine wjien Nora roused her 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 183 


from the stupor in which she had been lying when we 
entered. 

A silent grip of the hand, a tender look of sym- 
pathy was the sole greeting I could vouchsafe my 
little maid in her extremity. I was struck dumb by 
the pitiable spectacle of woe she presented. Never had 
I seen her like this; a blight seemed to have fallen 
upon her; her spirit seemed strangely broken — she 
who had fought so good a fight! Everything about 
her, in fact, spoke loudly of the tragedy that had 
overtaken her. Dear heart ! Whatever was I to do ? 
How was I, with my incapable, inadequate man’s soul, 
to cope with a grief so tragic as this ? — a mother bereft 
of her babe under circumstances so maddening, and 
that babe not yet a weanling! 

Nell put out her hand listlessly when I expressed 
my horror at what had occurred. Then she turned 
toward the Irish girl, who was beginning to set the 
rather untidy room to rights. 

“That will do, Nora,” she said, not unkindly. 
“Dr. Lovell will excuse the sad state of things under 
the circumstances, I ’m sure. Leave us now. Per- 
haps Dr. Lovell will stay to lunch. Get up something 
good, and maybe I can eat something, just to please 
you. Oh, don’t be too certain, and don’t fuss any. 
I said maybe, remember,” as Nora’s face lit up at 
these words, and she marched off with fell determina- 
tion in her port, for she evidently adored her young 
mistress. 

“My poor little girl ! Poor little mother!” I mur- 
mured, as Nell sank back, wearily, upon her pillow, 
as though too weak to bear up under the heavy blow 
that had fallen. 


184 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


“Don’t!” she exclaimed, sharply; more sharply 
than I had ever heard her speak. She struggled 
feebly to a sitting posture again, and held up one 
exquisitely-molded white hand as if to ward off a 
blow. “Don’t speak to me like that! I can’t bear 
it. I don’t want to break down again, not till I ’ve 
talked over this terrible business with you. Oh, it ’s 
come, Deane; it ’s come just as ’Nita always said it 
would,” she burst out in a lifeless sort of tone, after 
a brief struggle with her tears. “Yes, ’Nita was right ; 
we were far too happy — happy? — oh, my little Rex! 
Oh, wait ! ” as a tortured sob broke from her in spite 
of the efforts she made to keep it back. She bit her 
lips till the flesh protested redly, in her struggle for 
composure. 

I ground my teeth over the hopelessness of it all — 
this latest unmerited stroke of destiny that was re- 
sponsible for this exhibition of such “an extremity 
of griefs as makes men mad ! ’ ’ And I could do noth- 
ing to relieve it, nothing. 

Nell got upon her feet at last, adjusted the blue 
negligee she wore, and walked feebly up and down, 
impatiently tossing aside the ruffled locks and clench- 
ing and unclenching her white hands distractedly. 
I waited till I saw that she was regaining the mastery 
over herself once more. 

“Tell me, Nell, what has been done to find the 
child? I am so anxious; remember that I, too, suf- 
fer,” I faltered out at last. 

“Oh, we ’ve done everything possible. The entire 
staff of workers at the theater has been on the go 
from the first, between theater hours, of course; and 
the police of the whole ward have been out in full 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 185 


cry, besides plain-clothes men from the city proper. 
Oh, it is all quite useless. We are exactly where we 
were the first day. It is as though the ground had 
opened and closed over him!” 

“How did it happen?” I asked, thinking some 
light might be got from her account. 

She went over the same ground that Nora had. 
Her story was substantially the same, but with a 
sentence at the close which made me sit up and take 
notice at once. 

“Oh,” I burst out, “then you think Grayson had 
a hand in the business? You really believe he has 
found you out at last?” 

“Why, yes, of course,” and she opened her eyes 
in her surprise that any other hypothesis could be 
formed from the data at hand. “I should have re- 
sisted Mr. Campbell’s plausible representations and 
remained in the oblivion that was my sole protection 
against that vindictive mentality. The papers have 
been writing a lot of nonsense of late. I do n ’t doubt 
that Howard has been on the lookout for just such 
stuff. Oh, he was not so mad but he could reason 
out the best method for apprehending me. His brain 
may be all 0 K except on the one point; he may be 
a monomaniac. That is what strikes such terror to 
my heart, for he is not himself where we — my poor 
little Rex and I — are concerned. His terrible words 
ring in my ears still. He said he was determined 
to have the child; that the law gave him legal rights 
over him, and — oh, the fiendish look on his face when 
he told me that! Oh!” wringing her hands, dis- 
tractedly, “oh, he will do the child some permanent 
injury, I know he will. To think of my sweet baby 


186 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


in the power of such a man ! If he should hurt the 
delicate little spine ! Why, the child may be a hope- 
less cripple for life as a result of Howard’s mad 
handling. My beautiful little Rex ! so perfect in every 
way, so absolutely flawless! Oh, Deane!” 

4 ‘ Now, Nell, this is very foolish ! This will never 
do. There, there ! my poor child ! ” as her sobs broke 
out afresh. * ‘ Come, come, Nell; it ’s no good tor- 
menting yourself over mere suppositions. There is 
nothing certain about the matter. You don’t even 
know whether Grayson has got the child or not ; and 
even if he has , by any chance, he ’ll have to get some- 
body to take care of the boy. He ’d never saddle 
himself with a baby without providing a nurse for it ; 
and you may be sure no woman would allow him to 
mistreat a tiny babe like that.” But Nell would not 
be comforted. 

“But I just know she ’ll ruin his stomach with 
all sorts of indigestible messes ; and I ’ve always been 
so careful!” she wailed, her maternal soul conjuring 
up all sorts of horrible visions. 

“Oh, I wouldn’t think about that now.” But 
I might as well have reasoned with the winds. 

“And I know she ’ll give him some of those atro- 
cious soothing-syrups when he cries his little eyes out 
for his mother, as I ’m perfectly certain he ’ll do.” 
And then she wailed afresh over this contingency. 
“And he ’s never, never had one single drop of the 
pernicious con-con-coctions, ” with a broken sob be- 
tween each syllable. “They make sad trouble with 
the nervous system — even cause con-con-^sions some- 
times!” with a shuddering break in her voice, and 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 187 


fixing tear-drowned eyes accusingly upon me, as 
though I were defending the things. “Oh, I know 
all about it,” as I opened my eyes at this exhibition 
of baby-lore by so young a mother. 

“Nurse Grey used to give me a lecture a day on 
the care of infants,” Nell went on, presently, wiping 
away the tears which kept falling in a briny little 
shower upon one of Rex’s little shoes that she had 
picked up from somewhere in her disturbed prowlings 
about the room. “Nurse cautioned me particularly 
against soothing-syrups of all kinds, and outlined in 
vivid style the dangers that attend their use. Castoria 
is the only medicine the darling has ever been given ; 
and now — oh, I ’m half wild when I think of all the 
mischief that may be done! Oh, my little Rex! 
Where is he? where? where?” holding the little blue 
shoe up to her face and pressing it to her lips, de- 
spairingly; but I would not let her go on. 

“Why, Nell; see here! This will never do, never 
in the world! You are working yourself up into a 
dreadful state. Now, just think dispassionately a 
minute, do; there ’s a sensible girl. You must keep 
yourself tranquil, calm, and quiet as possible. Sup- 
pose Rex should be brought to you to-day; some one 
might run across him any hour. It is noways cer- 
tain that Grayson has him; he may turn up any 
time now; he may have wandered off by himself. 
Then think how bad it is for a mother’s milk to become 
so poisoned by worrying and fretting. Nurse Grey 
must have incorporated the fruitful source of harm 
that would be to a baby, in her lectures, I ’m sure. 
Why, the chances are that you yourself will do him 


188 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


as much harm, maybe more,” I hinted, darkly, “than 
the very regimen you have just been so eloquently 
deploring!” 

This artful insinuation had struck the right chord. 
I could see that by the startled, interested look she 
fixed upon me, although she grumbled and pshawed 
in a half pouting manner, making all sorts of objec- 
tions to the notion (far-fetched in the extreme, I ad- 
mit) of little Rex’s wandering away alone. 

“But the dear child hasn’t walked alone since the 
week you went away. He had a bad fall, bumped his 
poor little forehead grievously, a big lump raised 
there at once; since then he has been afraid to ven- 
ture — he couldn’t wander off by himself, this winter 
weather, too. Although, for the matter of that, it was 
a very mild day; but, of course — ” 

“Well, anyway, we are not sure Grayson has the 
child. There are, in fact, a dozen different ways that 
he could have been lost besides the one you fear. 
Come, cheer up for little Rex’s sake. Let him find a 
calm, tranquil little mother, ready to minister to him 
at once, if he should be found. That ’s my brave 
little girl. Come, get ready ; I ’ll take you for a spin 
in my new electric. You ’ll be able to eat something 
after a good supply of ozone, I ’m perfectly certain 
of that.” 

After a good deal of demurring that she felt un- 
equal to making a suitable toilet, I got her persuaded. 
I sent Nora up to assist in the hurried toilet, and in 
a short time I had the satisfaction of bundling Nell 
into the car, and we bowled smoothly off, she pro- 
testing all the while that she felt a fright with her 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 189 


pinky-colored eyes. But I assured her that the veil 
she wore dimmed all defects beautifully. 

At the garage I dismissed the taxi, and we took 
possession of the electric I had ordered fitted up just 
before leaving for the East. It was a beauty, Nell 
said. And it was, and built for speed as well as 
comfort; I saw that at once when the attendant ex- 
plained its inner workings at the auto show. I had 
seen nothing like it in the East. 


i 


CHAPTER VIII 


A Cruel Letter 

For several days the hunt for the lost baby went 
on. Posters were printed with pictures of Rex, his 
age, etc., thereon, and an offer of a thousand dollars 
reward offered for his safe return. These were dis- 
tributed all over the great city ; the papers advertised 
for him ; private detectives and the regular police did 
their best. I prowled round in all sorts of unlikely 
places, answering communications sent in from people 
who had wind of lost children. But all was absolutely 
without result. 

Nell kept up wonderfully during the suspense. 
She went back to her work at the theater again. 

“Oh, I must work — I must keep busy if I would 
retain my reason or hold myself tranquil as you say 
I should !” she told me, feverishly, when I tried to 
remonstrate with her against the hard work she was 
doing. 

’Nita was doing nicely ; she would soon be able to 
come home now. It had been impossible to keep the 
news of little Rex’s disappearance from her. She 
suspected something from Nell’s altered manner and 
pale cheeks, and fretted so sadly, declaring that she 
was certain the baby was dead and we were keeping 
it from her, that we were obliged to tell her the truth 
at last. Nell could not control her voice when she 
answered ’Nita’s inquiries for the boy — the eyes of 
190 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 191 


love are keen and the ears attuned to the insincere 
cadences that obtain when one tries to evade questions 
put so inquisitorially. 

’Nita took the news with a fortitude that surprised 
me a little, for that she worshiped the child was self- 
evident. When I went to see her alone I found out 
the reason for her philosophical attitude. 

“Dr. Lovell, I am possessed of the notion that 
little Rex is in the hands of Black Hawk. He has, 
no doubt, made good the threats he made during our 
stay in Kansas City.” 

“Black Hawk!” I exclaimed. 

“Yes. He wants me to marry him, you know/ 
she explained, when I looked my bewilderment at the 
introduction of a name I had never heard before. 
Her great black eyes were fixed upon me with a pathos 
in their depths that woke my sympathies at once. 
“You know I ’ve known him all my life; he comes 
from the same tribe to which my mother belonged. 
I ’m afraid of him, somehow. He insists so vehe- 
mently that he will get me in the end. I feel under 
a spell in his presence. It was the sight of his sinister 
face in the station that made me faint that night. 
I have never told Nell. She has seemed sad enough 
without my trials to worry her,” she finished, sen- 
sibly. 

“You speak of threats; what threats?” I asked 
her, roused at the possibility of a clue at last. 

“Oh, Black Hawk found out my devotion to the 
boy, at once. He has haunted our different abodes 
since I left the picture concern. He soon located us 
in St. Louis. Unknown to Nell he has followed us 
about from city to city, trying to make me yield to 


192 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


his importunities, threatening at last to do the boy 
some harm, or to steal him and keep him hidden till 
I promise to be more sensible. Oh, he would never 
harm the child — you need not look so alarmed ; it was 
just his anxiety to bring me to his will. I ’ve known 
him all my life, I tell you. He always talks wildly 
and begins to threaten dire consequences when I re- 
fuse to listen to his suit. He knows quite well that if 
harm came to our baby there would be an end to 
hope, so far as making me change my mind goes/’ 
she ended, confidently, with a sagacious shake of her 
black braids. Nell had refused to allow the hospital 
authorities to touch the wealth of ebon hair when the 
fever was at its height, and it was just as well ; ’Nita 
had fared nobly without the sacrifice. 

I marveled at this display of unselfishness on the 
part of the Indian girl; for the sake of Nell’s peace 
of mind she had borne uncomplainingly a burden that 
must have been a heavy one. I looked at ’Nita with 
fresh interest ; she had been a constant surprise to me. 
From the first she had evinced a strength of character, 
a nobility of soul totally unlooked-for in one I had 
looked upon as a simple savage, coarse of feature 
as well as character. I had turned some tall mental 
somersaults during these weeks since we met, and if 
Glen should fall in love with her and be so fortunate 
as to win her love in return, he would have my bless- 
ing with a right good will. But this was a remote 
contingency, for ’Nita was exceedingly adverse to my 
sex in general; that was made plain to me by her 
stiff manner to men and sundry sarcastic little 
speeches that she would rap out now and then about 
the tyrant man, etc. It was plain she was a decided 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 193 


man-hater, and small wonder after her experience 
With Grayson. 

“One thing puzzles me,” ’Nita’s wonderfully 
sweet contralto voice was saying when I came out of 
the brown study into which her words had plunged 
me. “Why has Black Hawk made no sign? If I ’m 
right in my theory he would have found some way 
to let me know that he had the child before this.” 
And she knit her arched brows in an uncertain frown 
a minute, then they changed to a smooth line once 
more ; the light of a new idea shone in her great dark 
eyes. 

“Of course ! Why did n’t I think of that before? 
Black Hawk has probably just heard of my presence 
in the hospital. I suppose he was so taken up with 
his kidnaping scheme that he failed to notice my 
absence from our little menage till after he made his 
grand coup. The only thing he can do now is to wait 
till I ’m out of the hospital. Would we better tell 
Nell, do you think? or would it only give her fresh 
cause for worry?” She waited anxiously for my 
reply. 

I would think it over, I told her at last, as I bade 
her good-bye. 

I was not at all sure, after I had viewed the thing 
from several angles, but it would prove an excellent 
counter-irritant, serving to keep Nell’s mind off the 
weird notion, if only for a time, that Grayson’s men- 
tal disability would work harm to the boy. I resolved 
finally to run over at once to the cottage and let Nell’s 
state of mind guide me in determining what to do. 
Rehearsal would be over long enough for her to have 
got through lunch by this time. It was now two 
13 


194 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


o’clock. There was no matinee this afternoon; Nell 
would be free till seven o’clock to-night. I would 
coax her to take a spin in the electric, that would 
put some color in the too, too pale cheeks. 

Nora let me in when I rang the bell — a illustrated, 
red-eyed Nora with all the Irish comeliness gone from 
her fresh face, which was so anxious that I looked at 
her questioningly. 

“Shure, it ’s nanght but throuble, it is, in this 
house, sur, Oi do be thinkin’. If ivver Oi cam oop 
forninst the loikes o’ this here, it ’s not mesilf that ’s 
afther ricollictin’ thim, sur!” 

“Why, what now?” 

Nora opened her lips to reply, then closed them 
in a surprised kind of way. 

“Shure, now Oi come to think of ’t, Oi doan’t 
know at all, at all, sur ! ’ ’ she broke out at last. “It ’s 
this way, sur: Oi was just afther takin’ oop a lunch 
to the little missis ; she had just come in from the tee- 
ater, dead beat from the hard work and the worry, 
d ’ye see, sur? An’ shure, I jist took oop the mornin’ 
mail wid the bit sup — that ’s the onliest thing Oi did, 
sur; so help me, sur — an’ wad ye b’lieve it, sur, I 
found the missis in a dead faint on the flure not two 
minutes afterwards, when I brought oop some relish 
fer the cold meat that I do be afther fergittin’, sur?” 

“Go on, go on, girl!” I ordered, impatiently, for 
I saw she had more to say, only the soft Irish heart 
threatened to dam up the flow of wordy brogue effect- 
ually. She swallowed hard a few times, then resumed 
the narrative with sundry breaks when she drew her 
breath in with resounding sniffs. 

“Well, sur, she opened wide her pretty eyes in 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 195 


a bit av a minute, only they was dazed-like, an’ put 
her hands daft-like to her poor white face. I helped 
her to her feet and led her over to the sofy. 

“ ‘Nora!' sh’she, in a deadly quiet, all-gone-like 
kind av voice, ‘I ’ve had a blow, Nora; I ’ve had a 
blow — a terrible, terrible one, Nora.’ Shure, sur, Oi 
jist busted out cryin’ to wanct, ow-aw, ow-ow! that 
poor, stricken face wid its look av mis ’ry ! It ’s all 
broke oop, Oi am, sur, bedad — ow, aw, ow-ow — ” 
And the soft-hearted Irish girl stopped abruptly, 
emitting howl-like cheeps of woe, making vicious little 
dabs all the while with the corner of her apron, first 
at one red eye and then at the other, all of which 
proved but the preliminary to “springing a line of 
weeps” which sent her kitchen ward with shuffling 
alacrity. 

I could not forbear a smile, in spite of the anxiety 
that beset me, at this picture of Irish susceptibility. 

Upstairs I found Nell sitting stonily beside her 
little desk, a paper clutched vise-like between tense 
fingers. 

“Nell; why, Nell!” I couldn’t help exclaiming 
when I saw her face with its frozen look of suffering 
and horror. “What has happened? Rex?” 

For answer she raised the hand that held the letter 
with a movement that was almost indifferent, and 
gave it to me without a word. The action struck a 
chill to my heart somehow. I took it from her me- 
chanically, a feeling of dread stealing over me. 

“Rex? Not dead?” I gasped, not daring to read 
for the minute. 

“Dead?” she muttered, hoarsely. “Oh, if he only 
was ! dead ! and safe ! Yes, that would be a mercy — 


196 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 

a blessed relief from this fearful suspense — dead ! If 
only I might have that comforting knowledge! If 
only she had not written ! But, no, that would never 
have suited her cruel purpose — she wanted to crush 
me utterly ! ’ ’ 

“She?” 

"With hands that shook prodigiously I smoothed out 
the paper and read : 

“I can not forbear sending you a line to gloat 
over my prize. My turn has come at last, as I always 
said it would. ‘All things come to him who waits/ 
Did you think I would submit tamely to your high- 
handed theft of my papers? As your good husband 
would put it, ‘Not on your tintype!’ Your triumph 
was shortlived. I have the child fast. You will never 
see it again till every good impulse (if the child of 
such parents can possibly have any ! ) has been crushed 
out — beat out, if it prove an unruly brat. I shall 
place the child with unscrupulous persons, who will 
do anything for money. They will begin a course 
of treatment, as soon as it is of a receptive age, that 
will so demoralize the little viper that no creature 
from the gutter will be more base. It shall be given 
whisky at a tender age, so as to foster a taste for 
strong drink; no stone will be left unturned to make 
of her the vilest of the vile. When the work is fin- 
ished you will have an opportunity to see our handi- 
work; then you will see to what depths the human 
soul can sink. We ’ll see if you shrink and turn aside 
from your own child as you did from me that day 
in Jackson Square. The little viper! I could cheer- 
fully strangle it. I hate it; I hate it! Oh, it shall 
smart for it before all is said and done! Oh, I ’m 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 197 


consumed with chagrin when I reflect that I can’t 
gloat over you in person; nothing would give me 
greater pleasure. But I ’ll just have to possess my 
soul in patience. Time will fly on apace ; I shall not 
need to forbear when the time is ripe, and will bring 
her to you when she is a lost degraded creature whom 
not even yourself will harbor. Do n ’t suppose I shall 
keep the child near me. Oh, no ! I ’m far too clever 
for that. It shall be safely hidden; you will not be 
able to find it. 

“This will show you and that precious husband 
of mine that I can get round the letter of my promises 
fast enough. Au Revoir!” 

There the letter ended; it had no signature, but 
there was little need of that. What a vile plot, dia- 
bolical in its cruelty ! No wonder Nell was so hope- 
less ! Better, indeed, if the boy were dead than that 
such a fate should befall. Beautiful little Rex ! so 
winsome, so sweet. Oh, could such things be? To 
think of his falling into the clutches of this, this 
vampire , whose avowed purpose was to drain from 
him every good and gentle impulse ! Oh, was it pos- 
sible so dreadful a plot could succeed? I clenched 
my hands suddenly, crushing the letter in nervous 
fingers. Not if mortal power could stop her. There 
were ways. Lady Nan must not halloo till she was 
out of the woods. 


CHAPTER IX 


“All Thy Waves and Thy Billows 
Are Gone Over Mel” 

Was there no cine to the thing? I smoothed it 
out again, to see if a second reading would disclose 
anything I could seize upon as a foundation upon 
which to build a counterplot. But a low sob from 
Nell interrupted me. 

I looked round. She was kneeling on the floor 
before a little fairy-like structure tricked out in baby- 
blue and white lace. Her face was buried in some 
little garments that lay across the crib in careless wise, 
as though tossed down in waiting for the bed hour. 
I mistrusted they had lain just so since the boy had 
disappeared, for I remembered seeing them on my 
first visit to this room, when I first learned of the 
boy’s loss. 

Nell lifted her head at last and crushed a little 
nightrobe against her breast, the tears welling up 
into her eyes and dropping over the little white gar- 
ment. Then, “harassed with the returning parox- 
ysms of grief and despair,” she wrung her hands to- 
gether impotently and flung them distractedly above 
her head. 

“Oh, my little Rex! my little Rex! Deane, 
Deane ! Where is he ? where ? where ? Oh, has that 
terrible woman dared to lay a rough hand on his 
delicate little flesh? Would she really have the wicked- 


198 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 199 


ness to mistreat a baby like that? Oh, oh!” Tor- 
tured sobs interrupting her words, “what shall I 
do? what shall I do? Oh, let me go; let me cry! 
What ’s the difference now? I can’t be calm; I 
won’t be — there ’s no need — he ’ll not be brought 
back to me any minute now. Oh, oh! I can’t sit 
quietly by while at this very instant some dreadful 
thing may be happening to him ! Oh, my poor baby ! 
I ’m wearying for the feel of his little baby fingers 
over my breast — those gentle, soft, wandering touches ! 
— for the feel of his warm, pliant body on my arm of 
nights; for his breath on my face. Why, he ’s lain 
in my arms every night since he was two months old ; 
and now ! Oh, these empty, empty arms ! How they 
cry out to crush that lovely little body close, close! 
Deane, Deane, I want my boy; I want him! Bring 
him back! Make her give him back to me; do, do! 
Oh, I can ’t bear it ; I can ’t bear it ! ” And she flung 
herself down before me and clasped my knees, weep- 
ing wildly, piteously now. 

I had sunk helplessly into a chair, abashed, dis- 
traught before a grief I knew myself powerless to 
mitigate. I must just stand aside, it seemed, while 
the waters of affliction engulfed my poor little girl 
in its whelming flood. 

I leaned over where she knelt, put my arms round 
her shaking body, and drew her, unresisting, between 
my knees ; I cuddled her hot head against my breast. 

“That ’s right, cry; it will do you good,” I told 
her, realizing at last that the mother heart would 
break if it found no outlet for the pent-up emotions 
of the past two weeks. It had been so hard to wit- 
ness, I had selfishly tried to stem the tide of sorrow 


200 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


that would, by its very violence, have brought com- 
parative rest to the sorely tried soul. Bad judgment. 
If it was so hard for me, if my own heart ached so 
for little Rex, when I had known him for so short a 
time, how must poor Nell's torture her? 

i 1 Poor little mother !” I exclaimed, involuntarily, 
holding her close. 4 ‘What can I do? What can I 
say ? ’ ’ 

She lifted her head and raised herself from be- 
tween my knees, sitting down facing me upon the 
arm of my chair, her hands clasping one of mine 
closely all the while. She looked at me long and 
yearningly ; her eyes seemed to burn in their sockets, 
so intense was the gaze she fixed upon me. It be- 
came positively uncanny at last. It was as if she 
looked straight through the encompassing, hindering 
flesh to something inside of me. 

‘ 1 Oh, Deane, Deane ! I want my boy ; I want him ! 
I want him!” she wailed, in a voice so changed I 
hardly knew it. “You are so like him, Deane! It 
is my boy I see in every line of your face this minute. 
I always told myself so, oh, how gladly, how exult- 
ingly! It thrilled me strangely to see each blessed 
trait of yours cropping out in him as the months 
passed — his yellow, yellow curls! Your very own, 
Deane,” she half whispered, running her hands ab- 
sently through my hair, ‘ ‘ and your blue, blue eyes ! ’ 9 
She kissed the lids with a vehemence that made my 
eyeballs ache, and then pressed my head against her 
white throat with an abandon that surprised me, from 
one so modest and retiring; but then she was utterly 
beside herself for the minute, she scarcely knew what 
she was doing. 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 201 


‘Oh,” she went on, presently, “many *s the time 
I ’ve crushed my baby to me till he wailed, so grate- 
ful was I for his little life, in those lonely days when 
you were far away, and I longed unspeakably for the 
touch of your hand, the sound of your voice. He was 
part of you, your own flesh and blood. Oh, he would 
have been dear, oh, so dear! to me for that alone, 
even if I had had no mother-love to give him. Oh, 
I worshiped him for you, for you , Deane ! And now ! 
oh, the tragedy of it! I am loving you and yearning 
over you for the sake of my boy, just as I did over 
him for your sake in the dreary days that are gone ! 
Oh, the irony of it all! I see his bright little spirit 
looking at me this minute out of your own blue eyes, 
Deane. Oh, I feel I must clasp you close, close ! — this 
terrible void, the tortured ache of these empty, empty 
arms! Oh, I want my little Rex! I want to hold 
him close, now, at once! I shall go wild if I can’t 
strain that little body hard, hard in my arms once 
more !” 

She clasped her arms round my neck and clung 
to me convulsively. 

I swept her off the side of the chair into my arms, 
pressing my lips on brow and cheeks and lips. I 
tried to soothe her into tranquillity by every tender 
word at my command. But it was all no use. The 
hard, dry sobs continued unabated for many minutes, 
though few tears came to relieve the overcharged 
heart. Her arms, from which the kimono sleeves fell 
away in loose folds, were still clasped round my neck 
as though she never meant to let go. 

She raised her head at last, placed a white hand 
on either side of my face, and looked at me hungrily, 


20£ Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


such an expression of black despair in her eyes it 
haunted me for days afterward. 

“I can’t let you go, Deane, Deane, I can’t do it! 
I ’m tried above what I ’m able to bear. I have no 
one but you now. I won’t put you out of my life. 
I ’ve tried, heaven knows ! I ’ve tried, oh ! so hard 
to do right. I ’ve put you resolutely out of my 
thoughts all these months, and concentrated my affec- 
tions upon the boy. But now — well, now, if a per- 
verse Fate persists — if my little Rex is so cruelly lost 
to me, and that vile woman is allowed to keep him, 
to carryout her evil scheme unmolested, then — well, 
then I defy Fate! I can’t and won’t be left to bear 
the awfulness of this thing alone! Yes,” fiercely 
holding on to my hand as though it were the bone 
of contention, “I must, I will see you often — as often 
as I please. I ’ve fought and struggled, to no pur- 
pose, it seems. Now — well, now I refuse to fight fur- 
ther. I can’t let you go completely out of my life, 
as I did before. I won’t ! I won’t!” raising clenched 
hands above her head, defiantly. Then, with a swift 
reaction to piteous, suffering motherhood once more: 
‘ 1 Oh, my baby ! My little, tender baby ! Where is 
he ? Where is he ? Has that awful woman laid rough 
hands upon his poor little body ? Oh ! oh ! I ’m 
stifling, suffocating, smothering! I must have air, 
air!” 

Struggling to her feet, she staggered over to a 
window, flung up the sash, and sank down upon the 
floor, with her head hanging feebly over the sill, while 
Winter poured its chill breath sharply, stingingly 
over the unprotected throat and chest, from which 
she had frantically torn away the clothing. 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 203 


“Nell, Nell!” I exclaimed, anxiously, hurrying up. 
“Don’t do that! Tour voice, little girl! Think of 
your voice! Come, come away, dear; let me — ” But 
I soon saw that I was speaking to deaf ears. The girl 
had fainted. 

I lifted her limp form from the floor and bore 
it to a couch which was somewhat sheltered from the 
cold wind. I laid my hand over the heart. It beat 
with rather stronger pulse after a few minutes; so 
I made no heroic efforts to bring Nell back to con- 
sciousness, but let a merciful oblivion hold her in 
its kindly folds. 

By and by I chafed the delicately-modeled wrists 
gently till a faint color crept into the marble cheeks, 
and the lips, too, took on a faint carmine. I smoothed 
back the tangle of rippling hair with a relieved sigh. 

Poor little maid! I looked down at her compas- 
sionately where she lay stretched out before me, a 
pathetic young figure, the tears yet twinkling dia- 
mond-wise on the long lashes that thickly shaded the 
rounded cheeks. Poor little mother ! prostrated by 
this last of the many waters of affliction that had 
compassed her round about. I thought of the words, 
“All Thy waves and Thy billows are gone over me.” 
They were eloquent to me of the bitter experiences 
through which my little girl had passed in her life’s 
short span. Where was this thing to stop ? I 
asked myself, grimly. Surely note there was no bit- 
ter cup but had been pressed inexorably to those re- 
luctant young lips! I kissed the beautiful hands 
again and again. 

I was a good deal surprised at Nell’s outbreak. 
How the water-floods must have overflowed that tried 


£04 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


young heart! How she must have shrank from the 
fearsome deep that yawned to swallow her up — the 
pit of infinite pain that opened to shut its mouth 
upon her, to change the metaphor, before so deli- 
cately reticent, so modestly self-contained a soul could 
sweep away the barriers a strict convention had set 
up, to reveal with reckless abandon the inmost secrets 
of her heart — she, who would in normal moods have 
suffered her tongue to be torn out before these things 
should have been dragged from her. 

Queer ! 

It made my pulses quicken with a sudden, throb- 
bing hope when I remembered the exact words of 
Nell’s passionate mutiny against destiny. Should 
I be able to persuade her to be my wife if Grayson 
carried his sojourn in Reno to its logical conclusion? 
My wife! How the word thrilled me! How the 
bare possibility illumined my lonely future with rays 
of light ! 

After all, why should Nell hesitate now that Gray- 
son had come to himself fully? She needed a pro- 
tector. She was far too young and lovely to be wan- 
dering round the world so wholly unfriended ; though, 
for the matter of that, I never knew any one more 
sensible, so wholly unsusceptible to flattery, that pit- 
fall of the unwary, as was Nell. 

I could not forbear a smile when I remembered 
how she had defied Fate. The little Puritan! She 
had deemed it equal to the most heinous crime in 
the Decalogue if she held any sort of converse what- 
soever with me. Evidently my company, after the 
exigence of the Indian ’Nita’s sickness was over, was 
to have been strictly taboo. 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 205 


Well, I confess I had to own that her instincts 
were right, they are the inalienable possession of the 
innately pure, modest soul, which takes instant alarm 
at the first encroachment upon the holy of holies the 
delicately sensitive spirit has set up. Any intrench- 
ment upon the danger-line irrevocably drawn between 
the sexes the innately pure woman seldom makes — 
never, in fact, unless, as in Nell’s case, some chord 
of self-control has snapped. 

No; Nell was right. For us twain, with the un- 
precedented circumstances that obtained between us, 
to meet in the ordinary social course was unwise. It 
could not be done with impunity. The odds were too 

great. Sooner or later But what ’s the use of 

unprofitable conjecture? Nell would regain her usual 
poise when the crises of her trouble had passed. Yes, 
even if the poor baby were gone for keeps, there was 
nothing in heaven nor earth more certain than this. 
But I was not without hope that she would see her 
way to making our happiness by giving up her strict 
views on divorce — in our case at least (alas! for stern 
principle), things being as they were; Grayson hav- 
ing taken the initiative. It was not as though I were 
asking her to drag her fair name through the courts, 
making a cause celebre of her affairs. That would 
be a different matter; I should never countenance 
that, never in the world. 


CHAPTER X 


A Startling Conclusion 

Nell opened her eyes at this point and looked won- 
deringly into mine. 

“Oh, why — I ’ve had the nicest time. Just rested 
like a baby. Did I fall asleep ?” 

“I should say you have had a fine time. You 
fainted right in the Arctic breath of the open win- 
dow,” I told her, reproachfully. “I wonder at you, 
Nell. Is this the way you conserve your one best 
bet—” 

“Oh, yes; I remember now,” with a sensitive 
blush. “But I was too worked up to take thought 
of anything but the stifling feeling that had laid hold 
of me. I won’t be any the worse for the imprudence; 
I never take cold — ” she broke off, wearily, as if 
the priceless boon of perfect health were rather a bore 
than otherwise. 

“But you won’t try to sing for awhile, of course?” 
I threw the rising inflection into my words. 

“Oh, no; not for a few days. I couldn’t. I ’ve 
arranged for a leave of absence — my understudy is 
a fine singer. She will do very well ; she has a beauti- 
ful voice, only she lacks confidence. This will be of 
invaluable benefit to her. You see, it ’s an ill wind 
that blows nobody good,” she finished, with a wan 
smile. 

She rose listlessly from the couch and began to 
206 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 207 


rearrange the unruly locks that threatened to tumble 
down over her shoulders at every impatient turn of 
her head. She was trying hard, I saw with compas- 
sion, to keep the conversation to generalities, sensi- 
tively aware of her loss of self-control and not even, 
I judged, from her anxious manner, at all sure of 
what she had said in her excitement, and very ill at 
ease in consequence. 

“By the way, Nell, you must go to see ’Nita as 
soon as you are able,” I said, following her lead; 
“she is wearying for a sight of you.” 

“Oh, yes, I really must; this is my day to go; 
I 11 try to make the effort to-morrow. How is she?” 
she asked, giving me a grateful glance, quick to ap- 
preciate my response to her efforts to break the dis- 
concerting pauses. 

4 4 Oh, ’Nita is doing nicely ; but you must be very 
careful to present a face less woebegone and worried 
when you see her, and must be careful what you say 
for awhile. I wouldn’t answer for the consequences 
if she finds out this fresh trouble about Rex. You 
must be as cheery and hopeful when you talk to her 
as you can,” I insinuated, artfully. If I could get 
Nell to keep up for ’Nita’s sake, so much the better 
for her own health and spirits. She was always so 
good about this, if one could but convince her that 
it was for some one’s benefit. She never thought 
of herself, bless her! 

“I must go now; I have an appointment,” look- 
ing at my watch. “You will let me take this effusion 
with me, won’t you?” indicating Lady Nan’s letter, 
which I had picked up from the floor. 4 4 Where is 
the envelope? I want everything that goes with it; 


208 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


I want to follow up every advantage. Is this it?” 
taking a soiled-looking envelope from the escritoire 
nearby. “Yes, I see it is,” answering my own ques- 
tion. 

Nell had nodded absently to my questions, her 
mind still revolving upon what I had said about ’Nita. 

“Here is the envelope which enclosed Lady 
Nan’s,” she roused up to say. “You know I had 
all my mail directed from New Orleans to a friend 
of mine in St. Paul. So when this letter came, the 
post people in New Orleans must have sent it to 
Margaret. She enclosed it in another envelope ad- 
dressed to my stage name, and sent it to San Fran- 
cisco, for I have not written to her since I left 
there. I thought there was no need to acquaint her 
with my subsequent addresses; it was a letter from 
you that I was providing for, leaving New Orleans 
so suddenly. Just see all these postmarks. The let- 
ter has followed me to every blessed stand.” 

‘ ‘ That ’s curious ! ” I exclaimed, when I had taken 
in the significance of her words; but I stopped ab- 
ruptly. I felt that Nell had had enough of uncer- 
tainties for one day; time enough to discuss the 
strange idea that had popped into my head after she 
had recovered somewhat from the strenuous emotions 
of the day. I picked up my hat and great coat — 
I had brought them upstairs with me in my flurry 
over Nora’s intelligence. 

“Good-bye, little girl!” I wrung her hand. “You 
must promise me not to fret — never despair; there 
will be some way found to circumvent this plot ; do n ’t 
doubt it. I ’ll look in to-morrow to see how you are, 
and will take you to the hospital if you are better; 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 209 


but first we ’ll have a drive through Lincoln Park; 
that will put some color in those too pale cheeks.” 
I kissed her hands, one after the other, and in an- 
other minute was bowling smoothly away through the 
clear, frosty air. 

After an early dinner I spread out Lady Nan’s 
letter with its two envelopes upon the table in my 
suite at the hotel. I sighed prodigiously while I pre- 
pared to follow out the odd idea that had come to 
me. The events of the afternoon had been decidedly 
wearing; I needed all my wits about me to cope with 
the mixed-up affair in hand. 

There were one or two points about the letter that 
puzzled me in the light of Nell’s remarks concerning 
the different cities through which the letter had come. 
There were some glaring discrepancies about the whole 
business. I must go over the ground carefully and 
find out just where they lay. 

To begin with, Lady Nan’s letter had been origin- 
ally posted in Chicago. I could see the first postmark 
on the envelope readily, though the date was blurred. 
Now, I had positive information from my old friend 
Blake that on the day Rex was stolen Nan was in 
full feather at Reno, consequently it was an impos- 
sibility for her to have posted the letter in Chicago 
or to have personally engineered the abduction. Then 
there was another thing: how the dickens did it 
happen, if Lady Nan had stolen the child, that she 
had gone the length of having the letter mailed to 
Nell’s old New Orleans address? Lady Nan or her 
minions must have known Nell’s Chicago address 
quite well, since they knew all about her work at the 
theater — must have watched for the opportunity to 
14 


210 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


steal the child for some time, in fact, before finding 
the propitious instant. 

Could it be possible that Grayson was acting in 
conjunction with Lady Nan? Upon reflection I dis- 
missed the idea as untenable. Why should he mail a 
letter round by New Orleans, either. 

It was a poser, look at it how I would. 

I examined the postmarks on the outer envelope, 
the one that Nell’s friend had used to enclose Lady 
Nan’s. There was such a raft of them that I had 
to use my magnifying glass to make out the various 
dates upon which they had been stamped. I went 
over the entire itinerary carefully. There had been 
a suspicion in my mind from the first that there was 
a discrepancy between the date the letter had been 
mailed and that on which it had been received. Be- 
ginning, then, with the fourteenth of December, the 
day the letter must have been posted, I calculated 
the time that should have elapsed if the letter had 
gone through Nell’s itinerary as per regular schedule, 
barring accidents and unavoidable delays, and found 
it to be four weeks to the dot. (I had ’phoned Nell 
for the names of the towns she had played in since 
leaving San Francisco, and hence could calculate with 
an absolute certainty the time it would take for the 
letter to go the rounds.) 

Then I pondered a minute. This was the thirty- 
first of December. Plainly, there was something 
wrong here, I told my self, with conviction. What 
did it all mean? I own I was stumped for the min- 
ute. Rex was stolen the fourteenth of December. 
The conclusion to which things pointed was obvious: 
the letter had been mailed two whole weeks before 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 211 


Rex disappeared! Yes, my lens showed me, after a 
careful survey, that December second was the par- 
tially blurred date. 

If it were not for Lady Nan’s own confession, I 
would have sworn that she had had nothing to do 
with the affair. I took out the letter and looked it 
over. There was a blur in one corner which indi- 
cated that something had been written, and then 
scratched out. I brought my multiplying lens to 
bear upon it; a clumsy attempt to block out a date 
(March fourteenth of this year) was apparent after 
a minute’s scrutiny. It was not like Lady Nan to 
do this, all her epistles were models of neatness; but 
the whole letter bore traces of having been written 
in great haste — some of the “t’s” were not crossed, 
etc.; all was foreign to her usual precise custom. 

Another reading showed me something neither 
Nell nor I had noticed in our distraction of mind: 
there was a disparity between the sexes; Lady Nan 
had twice called Rex “she.” I read the portion bear- 
ing upon this discovery over once more. * ‘ I will bring 
her to you when she is a lost, degraded creature.” 
Why did Lady Nan call the child she? Of course, 
this was not such a curious circumstance, taken by 
itself; for little Rex’s features were so delicately 
molded it was not surprising to find him mistaken for 
a girl, and the letter had most evidently been written 
in the first hours of abduction. It was only when I 
considered it with the other inconsistencies that it 
assumed any significance. And then there was that 
date, partially obliterated, at the top of the letter: 
March fourteenth. All at once a thought struck me. 
Why, that was the date of Rex’s birth, or close to it, 


£12 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


at any rate. This thing was growing more compli- 
cated the more I went into it ! 

To what did all these queer dissonances tend? I 
asked myself, with a growing sense of wonder. A 
sudden thought, so strange, so altogether startling, 
flashed across my disturbed brain I was mazed for 
the minute. I remembered all at once Dr. Weddel’s 
astonishing statement when I talked with him that 
day in Philadelphia, only a little more than a week 
ago. And there were Sukey’s dark hints to be reck- 
oned with, too. In short, everything pointed, in the 
summing up, to a conclusion that staggered me, I con- 
fess. My heart beat faster as I checked off point 
after point which seemed to fall in with the hypothe- 
sis I had in mind. Well, this affair was certainly 
the limit. I would take a trip to New Orleans as 
soon as Nell was more tranquil, and have an eluci- 
dating confab with Sukey and the doctor. 

I went over the ground most carefully once more, 
verifying my first calculations as to the approximate 
date on which ‘Nell could have received Lady Nan’s 
letter, and found that my original figures were correct. 
Indeed, the letter was three days ahead of time, show- 
ing that the days I had allowed for possible delays 
had been unnecessary. In examining the dates I saw 
that there was a notice printed in red ink on Lady 
Nan’s envelope. “Delayed at Station X,” I read. 
I recalled seeing it before, but I had paid no attention 
to this quite common statement. But now everything 
made me suspicious. This delay might possibly ac- 
count for the soiled condition of the envelope. I 
made up my mind there and then to look up Station X 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 213 


to-morrow and find out what the postal officials had 
to say about the matter. 

When I did so I found a most curious thing. The 
postal station had been moved into its new quarters 
on an adjacent street just a month ago, and this 
letter (which the clerks all identified by its peculiar 
markings) had been found sticking between the let- 
ter slide and the wall when the moving was going on. 
No one, of course, could say with certainty how long 
the letter had lain hidden — long enough to become 
liberally plastered with coal dust, that was a cinch. 

More convinced than ever of the verity of my sus- 
picions, I marveled at the curious apathy of my poor 
girl in the matter — if it was apathy. Now I come 
to think of it, Sukey had hinted that Nell knew noth- 
ing of the affair. What would Nell say when she 
knew ? And how had this state of things come about ? 
At least without her knowledge, unless — of course, 
that must be it — Nell had, no doubt, been uncon- 
scious for days after her child was bom, which would 
account for her unenlightenment. I wouldn’t dare 
do more than throw out a few feelers to Nell regard- 
ing Sukey ’s strange words. But even they must 
wait till the missing Rex was located; then I might 
set Nell to talking of the days succeeding the boy’s 
birth. She would be so overjoyed over his recovery 
that a little upsetting news would do no great in- 
jury; so I reasoned. 


CHAPTER XI 


An Astounding Phase 

One day, a week after Lady Nan’s letter came, 
I motored over to the West Side to look up an 
answer to one of the circulars we had scattered broad- 
cast over the country. We had a full and complete 
description (together with a good photograph) of 
the lost baby printed on the circulars, and an offer 
of a thousand dollars reward to any one giving infor- 
mation leading to the restoration of the child. Con- 
sequently I had my work cut out for me chasing up 
responses to the “ad.” It was astonishing, the num- 
ber of babies that appeared to have gone astray. Time 
after time I had found sanguine individuals who 
were confident the missing baby was in their neigh- 
borhood, but all and sundry proved to be wild-goose 
chases. The babies in question would answer the de- 
scription perfectly on paper — had blue eyes and yel- 
low hair, and all that, but there the points of simi- 
larity ended. 

My quest of this morning had proved of a piece 
wtih all the rest, and I wished now that I had fol- 
lowed up one of the half-dozen other lost babies I 
had on my list. But this one on the West Side 
had appealed to me somehow — had drawn me almost 
against my will to this part of the great city. 

I was bowling along slowly, wondering whether 
to look up the Baby Hospital case on the South Side 
214 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 215 

or proceed on out to Evanston and look up the one 
there, when a little go-cart standing by the curb be- 
fore an elegant brown-stone flat on Ashland Avenue 
caught my eye. I had to swerve deftly to one side 
to avoid crashing into the sleeping baby, for it was 
directly in my path. All at once an exclamation of 
astonishment escaped me. 

Could I believe my eyes? I looked again, more 
closely, then jammed on the brake with a suddenness 
that would have made a high-powered car turn a 
double somesault. I leaped out, seized the baby, and 
was back in the electric speeding up the street with 
all the power turned on before you could say ‘ ‘ knife . 7 7 
I looked back as we turned the corner on two wheels, 
to see if there was likely to be a hue and cry. Evi- 
dently not. There were few people about, as it 
chanced. The hour was still early, at least for this 
fashionable quarter, I presumed. The few stragglers 
on the street had, by good fortune, been proceeding 
in the opposite direction farther down the street and 
beyond the brown-stone flat; so I was safe, absolutely 
safe, I exulted, looking down at my prize, who, to 
my wonder, had not once opened his eyes at my rough 
handling. 

I had known him in a moment. The little stock- 
ing-cap he wore caught my eye first, and the delicate 
beauty of his face (a little more delicate than for- 
merly, I noticed) and the little button of a mouth, 
all these told me in a moment that the missing Rex 
was before me. I acted on the instant — on impulse, 
as usual — without waiting to pursue the proper in- 
quiries. The truth is, I was afraid to do so; there 
were no lost babies except the one I had just inves- 


216 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


tigated, on the West Side; so I feared that whoever 
had possession of little Rex intended to hold fast to 
him. So I reasoned in that instant, and it behooved 
me to snatch him up without any by-your-leave pre- 
liminaries. 

On, on we sped toward the heart of the city, slow- 
ing down now and then to allow the congested traffic 
to resume its onward roar; on, on, straight up to 
the door of Nell’s cottage; my heart singing glad 
paeons all the while, when I pictured to myself the 
glad light that would flash over Nell’s face when she 
caught sight of us. 

I began to wonder, while I stood waiting for some 
one to let us in, why little Rex seemed so strangely 
drowsy. I shook him slightly, then more roughly. 
Strange ! I stooped suddenly to listen to his breath- 
ing. Phew-ew ! I started back in astonishment. 
What a breath ! No wonder the little tad had failed 
to waken. Whisky ! or I missed my guess. The child 
was sleeping off a case of plain drunk! 

What should I do? To present him to his mother 
in this deplorable plight was not to be thought of 
for a moment. I wouldn’t have Nell see him like 
this for worlds. I was turning away to make a silent 
get-away when the door opened and Nell looked at 
us with widely distended eyes, as though discrediting 
what they saw. 

Then a glad cry burst from her. 

“Rex! Rex! Oh, my little Rex!” seizing him 
from my reluctant arms and hugging him up with a 
fierceness that should have made him scream. But 
he just stirred uneasily, and his little mouth rounded 
into a microscopic yawn when Nell turned him over 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 217 

to feast her eyes on the baby charms from which she 
had had such a long fast. 

I hustled them inside and closed the door; there 
was no need to take the world and his wife into our 
confidences. Some curious faces were peering from 
behind the blinds of the adjacent houses at the happy 
tears that coursed down Nell’s moved face. 

She dropped into a chair, dashed away the tears 
with impatient hand the better to devour each well- 
remembered feature of the beautiful little face — the 
tender rosy mouth; the broad, white brow, beneath 
which the dark lashes, which were so oddly at variance 
with his yellow ringlets (now hidden under the cap), 
swept the velvet cheeks in long curly lines. 

After a few minutes’ worshiping, Nell turned to 
me gratefully and put out her free hand to where I 
stood looking down at them anxiously. 

“See,” she observed, sorrowfully; “only see how 
pale the darling is, and so much thinner! And he ’s 
been crying. Look at the dirty smudge under his 
eyes, where he ’s been rubbing in the tears with oh! 
such a dirty little fist ! What did they do to mother’s 
baby?” with another fierce hug. “And will you 
just look at these clothes ! Oh, he ’s never in his life 
been so neglected,” indicating with scornful dispar- 
agement the rather grimy bear-skin coat he wore. She 
took it off with no effort to be gentle, in the exas- 
peration of her soul. 

“How soundly he sleeps!” kissing him remorse- 
fully, aware at last of her roughness. “Ugh! I do 
believe he ’s had whisky. Yes, I thought so!” with 
a disdainful sniff. ‘ ‘ Deane, that dreadful woman had 
actually begun to carry out her threats! Well, she 


218 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


might have kept him clean, at least, seems to me. 
Such a dirty, dirty little slip ! I must change his 
clothes from top to toe directly he wakes; and he 
must have a bath, too.” And she began to take off 
the little stocking-cap. At the same instant the child’s 
lashes began to flutter, the lids quivered an instant, 
then opened slowly. 

Nell’s movements were arrested with the cap half 
off. A cry of incredulity broke from her. The child 
had opened wide a pair of wondering brown eyes and 
was taking stock of its surroundings with solemn 
earnestness. It sat up and looked from Nell to me 
curiously. 

Nell snatched off the cap with sudden energy. 
What a wealth of chestnut ringlets! They matched 
the eyes to a dot, I noticed, admiringly. There was 
something else, more wonderful still. Had Nell ob- 
served it ? I wondered. I looked at her curiously. 

“Why-ee-ee! Deane! What can this mean? 
Whose child is this ? ’ ’ she demanded, in a helpless sort 
of way. Her voice was lifeless, the joyous note of 
a moment since had fled, displaced in a moment by 
one of horror shading swiftly to despair. 

I was struck dumb by the contretemps. I sank 
into a chair with a distracted feeling of impotence. 
What astounding phase was this? 

The little one meanwhile, after tentative survey 
of its environment, struggled out of Nell’s relaxed 
hands to the floor. ‘ ‘ Down, down ! ” it piped, when 
she would have restrained it lest it fall. It stood 
quiet a moment, looking from Nell to me with specu- 
lative mien. Then it stumped up to me at once on 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 219 


wobbly little legs that gave evidence that the art of 
walking was a recent acquisition. 

“Maazh want fowsy; Maazh want fowsy,” the 
little thing kept saying, plaintively. I looked at the 
child, fascinated by the appealing expression in the 
mystic brown orbs — orbs so like Nell’s own that a 
shiver went over me somehow, as though I saw some- 
thing supernatural. The child placed an insistent 
baby-hand on my knee and looked up confidingly into 
my face, feeling no doubt, instinctively, the sympathy 
in my eyes that was so palpably lacking in poor Nell’s. 

The tones of the little voice were surprisingly like 
Rex’s own; so much so that Nell uttered a little moan 
and came over to us on swift feet. She sank to her 
knees and turned the baby round abruptly, as though 
needing fresh proof that her eyes had not deceived 
her in the first instance. 

“Oh, oh! what a cruel mockery! How wonder- 
fully like my poor little Rex this child is, Deane! 
But for the absence of the yellow hair and blue eyes, 
I would swear he stood before me. Oh, oh! This is 
awful. How can there be two babies so startlingly 
alike in the world? And to think that you should 
find it at just this particular time ! It ’s a bitter, 
bitter disappointment! Cruel, cruel!” she finished, 
with a despairing sob. 

She pushed the child aside, gently but firmly, when 
it sought to put up a tiny fist to wipe away the tears, 
sprang up from her knees, and fled the sight of us, 
unable, evidently, to bear the torturing likeness longer. 

“Pitty yady cwy,” announced the midget at my 
side, pointing to Nell’s figure flying up the reception 


220 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


stairs. It toddled to the stair-foot and watched Nell 
till a door shut behind her above. 

“My was cwyin’. Maazh want fowsy,” indicating 
its small self with one dimpled forefinger held against 
the puckered brow in mournful self-pity. 

I took the child upon my knee and tried to puzzle 
out the mystery, a helpless qualm over the situation 
sweeping over me. 

Whose child was this, anyway, that I had so un- 
ceremoniously annexed? And how should I be able 
to explain my proceedings with any degree of plausi- 
bility? I looked at the mite nestling against my 
shoulder and shifted its position slightly, the better 
to study its tiny features. 

What a remarkable resemblance it bore to little 
Rex ! Without a parallel in my experience. Feature 
for feature, with the exception of the eyes and hair, 
it was a perfect replica of the boy — the voice, the en- 
gaging little ways, the contour of the face and fairy 
form, the expression round the mouth, even down to 
the very dimple in one cheek only, all was amazingly 
like the missing baby. But what struck me most 
was this child’s astonishing eyes and hair. Never 
had I seen just this beautiful shade of chestnut 
matched so perfectly with the eyes till I met Nell. 
What did it all mean? I asked myself for the hun- 
dredth time. A startling suspicion lurked in the 
background, as it had done from the first moment the 
child looked into my eyes with an expression so like 
Nell’s, I drew in my breath sharply and could scarce 
take my eyes off the delicate little face. 

If I were right in my surmises? Could it be pos- 
sible ? What a strange coincidence, if this should turn 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 221 


out to be Nell’s own child after all ! I thought of what 
Dr. Weddel had said — and Sukey’s strange words 
came home to me charged with new meaning. In vain 
I told myself the idea was absurd, bizarre in the ex- 
treme. Between the lurid pages of a penny-dreadful, 
yes — but in real life ! The notion once finding lodg- 
ment in my brain, would not budge, no matter how 
far-fetched, I assured myself, the thing was when I 
followed it out to a logical conclusion; for it dove- 
tailed exactly with the data at hand. Dr. Weddel 
had told me that day at the convention that twins 
were born to Nell that night ten months ago. Twins ! 
No wonder I had been so astounded. And there was 
Lady Nan’s letter, mailed so near the date of the 
birth of the babies. 

“Maazh want fowsy; Maazh want fowsy,” quoth 
the baby in my arms, solemnly, at this juncture. 

What the dickens did she mean? “ Maazh,” I 
repeated aloud, wonderingly. 

“Mamma — mammy?” I queried, speculatively, on 
the off chance that I might hit upon the child’s mean- 
ing, and wishing to test my theory then and there. 

But the baby looked at me wholly uncomprehend- 
ing. Evidently no such word had place in its vo- 
cabulary. 

Score one for me! That fitted in exactly with 
my hypothesis. No ordinary child but knew well that 
magic word. 

“ Maazh, Maazh!” blazed the little thing, thump- 
ing its head emphatically with a pinky palm. 

A light burst in upon me — it was trying to tell 
me its name. I cudgeled my brain for names that 
sounded like Maazh, 


222 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 

“Mab, Mag,” I tried next, thinking some nick- 
name would answer, but only to have the vials of 
infant wrath poured out upon my crassly stupid head. 

“Maazh! Maazh!” stormed the cherub, ready to 
weep over the inability to make itself understood. 

4 ‘ Margery — Marge ; oh, why, of course ! How dull 
of me ? Madge ! ’ ’ with a sudden inspiration. 

She nodded her little cocoa with a vigor that 
threatened instant dismemberment. 

* 4 Maazh, Maazh!” gleefully triumphant over the 
notable achievement she had wrought. “ Maazh want 
fowsy !” 

But right here I stopped racking my exhausted 
brain. One must draw the line somewhere. Fowsy 
would have to remain plunged in Cimmerian gloom, 
I told her, firmly. 

“ Madge!” So it was a little girl, as I had hoped. 
That would fall in with my postulatum to a T. The 
twins were boy and girl, and Lady Nan had called 
her little victim 4 ‘she” in two instances. 

Morally certain I was right in my deductions, I 
turned Madge over to Nora, good soul! who was 
“shthruck all av a heap, and indade she was,” by 
the marvelous likeness to Rex. She gave the baby a 
warm bath and dressed her up in some of Rex’s 
things, turning up her Irish nose at the child’s own 
soiled garments, as Nell had done, as I marked from 
my station near the bathroom door. 

Then we gave her some milk, which she drank 
thirstily, and some oatmeal gruel. But Madge con- 
tinued to ask for “fowsy” at intervals in pathetic 
accents and with a grieved expression in her brown 
eyes that gazed so reproachfully into mine. She 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 223 


finally fell asleep in Rex’s crib, which had been re- 
moved to Nora’s room, Nell positively shunning the 
sight of it, Nora told me, since that cruel day she 
found her young mistress prostrated upon the floor. 

I knocked at Nell’s door to bid her good-bye and 
to see how she fared after the disappointment of the 
morning. There was a plan forming in my brain that 
I wanted to work out; it would take the balance of 
the day to carry out, I suspected. 

A low voice bade me enter. Nell sat with her 
arms stretched out in her lap, palms upward, in an 
attitude of hopeless misery. I did n ’t like the look in 
her eyes; such a stony, despairing expression lurked 
in their velvety depth when she gave me her hand, 
wearily, in limp farewell. It haunted me for the 
rest of the day, and I reproached myself bitterly for 
leaving her alone so long, while I puzzled out the 
strange notion that had possessed me. 

Nell seemed totally detached from her surround- 
ings, dazed, like one in a dream. I sent Nora up 
to her at once with some wine, and told the girl 
to get her young mistress to lie down if she could. 

I then drove off in the electric to the hospital, de- 
termining to fetch ’Nita home at once. She was now 
convalescing nicely. We were only waiting for a mild 
day to move her, anyway; that is, Davis was osten- 
sibly waiting for that. I knew well that, well wrapped 
up and driven with me in the heated electric, there 
was no danger to be apprehended from the move; 
only Davis was rather touchy about it. I more than 
half suspected a tendresse on his part toward the 
beautiful ’Nita. He would keep her near him as long 
as he dared, if I were right in my surmises, I opined, 


224 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


grimly. In my judgment, she could have been moved 
a week ago. She had been taking walks on the ver- 
anda every mild day (it was enclosed in glass), and 
seemed strong enough. But the excitement over Rex’s 
loss had made me withhold my hand when Davis 
vetoed my suggestions; I knew I had but to put the 
facts concerning Nell’s state before ’Nita to get her 
to rebel against remaining away from Nell a minute 
longer than I judged necessary. Now I resolved that 
’Nita should know just how Nell was fretting herself, 
though I would keep the facts regarding Lady Nan’s 
letter and my mistake about Madge to myself for the 
present. 

’Nita, as I anticipated, was for starting away on 
the instant, but Davis, coming in at that minute, re- 
fused to allow her to go till the morning on the plea 
of a slight spell of sneezing and coughing of ’Nita’s, 
due, she insisted, to some sort of foreign substance in 
the windpipe. Nothing would move Davis from his 
position, however, and with this concession we were 
forced to be content. 

“To-morrow morning at half after nine, then,” 
I told ’Nita, as I went out. 

“If she ’s not down with an influenza,” Davis 
flung after me, stubbornly. 

The old woman ! 


CHAPTER XII 


The Abduction 

I looked up some advertisements for furnished 
houses in the advertising columns and, after some fu- 
tile trials, soon found the very one I wanted in the 
neighborhood of Lincoln Park. The owners were off 
for the South on the afternoon train ; so I could take 
possession at once, as the servants would be glad to 
stay if I wanted them, so the agent informed me. 
Accordingly I closed with the offer at once and tele- 
phoned for an expressman to move my few effects 
from the hotel uptown. 

Soon I had the satisfaction of sitting under my 
own vine and fig tree once more (some rather sickly- 
looking fern and some giant palms representing said 
vine and tree), with little Madge making herself per- 
fectly at home on the rug before the gas log, some 
wonderful new toys gladdening the starved little 
heart. 

How I exulted over the dear little thing in the 
days that followed, what though they were full of the 
cares and responsibilities incident to the selection of 
a complete outfit of baby clothes ; such a woefully in- 
experienced beggar as I was, with no one to depend 
upon for guidance save the indifferent shop people! 
It was a fearful and wonderful outfit when all was 
in readiness. 

Anxiety for Nell’s sad state of mind, which threat- 
15 22 5 


226 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


ened a serious attack of brain fever if nothing inter- 
vened to rouse her from her stony calm, wore upon 
me, too. ’Nita’s presence, upon which I had dis- 
tinctly counted, failed to make any appreciable im- 
pression for nearly a week, and for a few days I 
was at my wits’ end. But at last a change came; 
Nell gradually began to notice ’Nita’s ministrations 
and to show a decided restlessness if ’Nita were ab- 
sent long from the room — a less hopeless expression 
appearing in the poor eyes as the days passed. She 
gradually began to take a slight interest in extrane- 
ous matters, inquired how her understudy was coming 
on, etc. But her nights were well-nigh sleepless at 
times, ’Nita told me; nothing brought surcease from 
the terrible ache, the fearful uncertainty of Bex’s 
fate. ’Nita took the sole charge of the girl, working 
over her unceasingly, and whatever we should have 
done without her at this crisis I dreaded to think. 

All efforts to locate the lost baby proved unavail- 
ing. There seemed absolutely no clue. 

If another element had not been brought to bear 
upon our troubles at this stage there would have been 
sorry work, I fear. But first there is another matter 
to clear up. 

Baby Madge repaid me for my care of her with a 
wealth of affection that was surprising. She seemed 
loath to allow me out of her sight, begging so pite- 
ously for “fowsy” that I took her into my own bed 
of nights, where she nestled up to me contentedly 
enough, though still murmuring, half-heartedly, 
“Maazh want fowsy,” till the sandman trickled his 
dust into the tired little eyes. 

Oh, the solace of feeling that sensuous little body 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 227 


snuggling up in my arms ! How it brought back the 
days of long ago when little Joyce had lain there, a 
tender, precious little burden, in the first weeks after 
mother died — only Aunt Jane had separated us as 
soon as she took charge of affairs. 

It was pathetic to note the unparalleled patience 
of Baby Madge as time went on. She made no special 
demand for attention, submitting with a philosophy 
remarkable in a baby, to the most flagrant neglect. 
The nurse I had engaged, like so many of her class, 
was too intent upon oogling the butcher’s boy, the 
milkman, and the iceman, to take her duties very 
seriously. And I myself, being after all but a mere 
man totally unaccustomed to the responsibilities that 
appertained to the care of young children, forgot her 
hours for feeding. I was inclined to be somewhat 
of a martinet over the proper hours for feeding in- 
fants, and had established a rigid system that I was 
very fussy over, sternly forbidding any infringement 
upon the regular intervals I had laid out for Madge ’s 
meals. In the long run the poor child was like to 
be starved rather than stuffed overmuch. 

Often I would look up from a learned treatise 
on some dark and inscrutable malady that was baf- 
fling the minds of J^sculapians at large, to find Baby 
Madge sitting up close to my chair on the floor, her 
tiny thumb tucked into her cheek and her little head 
bobbing wearily against me, the personification of 
patient, sleepy Hunger; and often as not, if the time 
overran more than usual, I would start up suddenly, 
recalled to a sense of the nurse’s shortcomings by a 
long-drawn patient sigh, to find the little thing doz- 
ing away at my feet, worn out by the long vigil. 


228 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


What a tale it told of cruel hardship, of woeful 
neglect, this patient bearing of the ills attendant upon 
our treacherous memories. I used to catch her up re- 
morsefully at such times, my heart wrung by this 
proof of the evil days, the hard knocks fate had sent 
in the few short months of her life. And then, as 
always at any sudden movement made in her vicinage, 
Madge would flinch pitifully, as though expecting a 
blow. All these things showed with terrible clear- 
ness the hard school in which the little thing had 
learned her unnatural lesson of fortitude. I ground 
my teeth in impotent wrath against the fiend in 
human shape who had deliberately planned this fear- 
ful wrong against an irresponsible little soul. No 
fate, however horrible, seemed adequate to me at 
the time to measure up to that which Lady Nan so 
richly merited. 

I had watched the papers carefully for any news 
of a baby lost, strayed, or stolen, on the bare possi- 
bility that I might have made a mistake; but there 
was nothing doing. I even sent an agent to canvass 
the neighborhood to inquire whether any family had 
recently lost a baby, but this too proved unproductive 
of results. So I dismissed the thing from my mind 
and enjoyed my little Madge without a qualm of 
uneasiness that some household was mourning her 
loss. I was more than ever convinced that my de- 
ductions were correct, and events soon proved that 
I was making no mistake. 

I had written to Sukey as though I had found out 
the truth, making out a hypothetic case with Lady 
Nan’s letter to Nell and Dr. Weddel’s statement about 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 229 


the twins as a basis upon which to reason. The an- 
swer came in due course and was a complete con- 
fession from that dusky damsel, with protestations 
of entire innocence in the matter. Lady Nan, it 
seems, had intimidated her (Sukey) by threats of 
dire confusion if she gave the thing away; that was 
made plain to me by a second reading. But the 
curious way the deed was accomplished staggered me, 
I confess; it was another trick of Fate which had 
played into Lady Nan’s hands with incomprehensible 
complaisance. This I found out afterward in all 
its entirety, along with other details. 

Nell, it seems, had had another somnambulistic at- 
tack on the night succeeding the day of the babies’ 
birth; had caught up little Madge in her flight and 
gone out into the warm March night. This was about 
eight o’clock in the evening; the night was oppres- 
sively warm, as March nights so often are in New 
Orleans, and Sukey was down in the kitchen with 
Rex on her lap, giving him some catnip tea, for he 
had been fretting sadly. Upon going upstairs she 
was astounded to find both Nell and the other twin 
missing, though she had left them sleeping soundly 
not twenty minutes before. There was no one in the 
house at the time except Sukey: the arrival of the 
babies being two months ahead of time, it had been 
found impossible to get a nurse till the next morning. 
The other servant had gone home sick just before 
Nell took down. So Sukey laid down the sleeping 
Rex and rushed frantically from room to room and 
on out into the garden at last in search of the miss- 
ing ones. There she found Nell handing over the 


230 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


tiny bundle of flannel to Lady Nan with strict in- 
junctions to keep it safe from an enemy who, Nell 
averred, was trying to steal it. 

Sukey perceived at once that her young mistress 
was not herself, having seen her before in an attack, 
and now she attempted to step between Nell and Lady 
Nan ; but the latter transfixed the black girl with that 
basilisk glare of hers, and so wrought upon Sukey ’s 
fears that she was afraid to open her mouth upon 
the subject either then or afterward. 

Next morning, as I already knew from Dr. Wed- 
del ? s remarks, a young doctor was sent to take charge 
of the case (Dr. Weddel having been called suddenly 
to Europe by a cablegram from his wife, who feared 
the worst for the son traveling with her in France 
for his health). 

The nurse also reported, and as neither nurse nor 
doctor knew that there had been two babies, Sukey 
held her peace, going on the principle, ‘‘Least said 
soonest mended/ ’ the fear of Lady Nan being still 
strong within her craven soul. Besides, I had a 
shrewd notion that Sukey feared my withdrawal of 
her little legacy should the facts become known be- 
fore she could defend herself to me. I had placed 
Nell in her charge, and would, she reasoned, hold her 
responsible if things went wrong. 

Dr. Weddel remained away till long after Nell 
had left the city; consequently, since Nell had no 
memory of the sleep-walking stunt and, indeed, had 
not been conscious till two weeks after the birth of 
the babies, it was dead easy for Sukey to keep her 
secret. 

Lady Nan, not knowing that there was more than 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal £31 


one baby, of course, believed she had that one, and 
could not forbear triumphing over her victim; hence 
the precious epistle which lay hidden behind the let- 
ter-slide in Chicago so long. I knew that Lady Nan 
had spent some time in Chicago previous to proceed- 
ing to Reno; she must have been arranging to place 
Madge with the people from whom I took her. It 
was a diabolical plot that all but succeeded. 


CHAPTER XIII 


“Daddy! Daddy!” 

One day, on going home, I w.as somewhat taken 
aback to find Glen Dexter cozily ensconced beside the 
gas-log with Baby Madge enthroned upon his knee, 
that small maid looking up into his face with a rather 
equivocal kind of joy engraven upon her own, while 
he contorted his facile physiognomy into some fear- 
ful and wonderful shapes before achieving that acme 
of hideousness that tradition has thrust upon the 
bogeyman of childish memory. 

“Hello, old man!” he said, nonchalantly, when 
he caught sight of me by the door where I had 
stopped short at the unlooked-for spectacle that con- 
fronted me. 

“Why, Glen, you rascal! Where did you drop 
from ? How are you, anyway ? ’ ’ coming forward and 
shaking his proffered left hand warmly. 

“Fine and dandy !” with a rising inflection and 
the lilt of firm purpose in his resonant voice, which 
dared those grim Shapes — Mental or Physical De- 
pression — to raise their sable heads spectral-wise in 
his young soul. No; Glen was a bom fighter. It 
would go hard if he failed to wrest good fortune 
from the “Old Woman with the scissors,” as he dis- 
respectfully dubbed Fate. 

“Who ’s your little friend?” indicating the mite 
in his arms with a little nod. “Didn’t know you ’d 
232 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 233 

an incipient baby-farm tucked away in these woolly, 
Western environs/ ’ with the patronizing tolerance 
of the born New Yorker away from his loved 
heath. 

“Daddy! Daddy !” shrieked Baby Madge at this 
propitious instant in joyous infant crescendo, holding 
out her hands to me. 

What sort of answer I should have made I have n’t 
a notion. I only know my face went every shade 
of the rainbow in bewildering succession — Glen’s 
astonished look at the way I had taken his simple 
question told me that plainly enough. 

“Daddy, daddy!” shrilled the baby-voice once 
more, while the eager baby-hands went up to me 
insistently. “Be hold, Maazh, be hold !” she kept 
saying, earnestly. 

“Well, what do you know about that V 9 railed 
Glen. “The fickle little baggage! Here,” handing 
her over with a disgusted grimace, her little blue- 
stockinged, black-slippered feet foremost; head dan- 
gling downward like a bale of merchandise. “Beware 
of her, Deane! Don’t hearken to her siren lay! 
That ’s exactly what she said to me not half an hour 
ago. ‘Daddy! Be hold ; be hold V with those en- 
gaging little lunch-hooks of hers thrust enticingly 
under my unsuspecting nose!” pointing an accusing 
finger straight into the rosy cheek pressed down con- 
fidingly against my shoulder, whence the great dark 
eyes peeped up at him shyly from a tangle of chest- 
nut curls. 

“Just look at her, I say. Pickle as the rest of her 
sex. Throws me down hard when a handsomer man 
appears upon the scene! After I ’d fallen for all 


234 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


sorts of contortionist stunts, too, at the imminent risk 
of injury to my manly beauty. Beware of her, I tell 
you ! ” he finished, in an absurd voice. 

Glen had run on, whimsically, talking nineteen 
to the dozen to give me a chance to recover myself, I 
could see that. Delicacy of feeling was his strong 
point, though, from his volatile, off-hand way of 
speaking, a superficial observer would never have 
found it out. 

Meantime I had been thinking things over and 
had come to the sensible conclusion that it was time 
a fresh mentality was let in on the difficulties I knew 
myself so sadly unfitted to cope with. Glen was a 
good sort, always capable and wide awake; he would 
quite likely be able to put his finger at once upon 
the weak spot in my system of warfare. I was be- 
ginning to tell him about the lamentable state of 
affairs, when I noticed that the lid of my watch had 
burst open in little Madge’s fists. I detached the 
watch from its chain and handed it to Glen where 
he sat facing me, and pointed out the resemblance 
between the pictured face within and that of the 
baby on my knee, who looked on philosophically at 
this ref ting of her beloved ‘‘tick-tick.” 

“That’s it! You’ve struck it, Deane. Madge 
is the living image of your little sister Joyce,” quoth 
Glen, with conviction. “I ’ve been wondering ever 
since I came in of whom this sprite reminded me 
Poor little Joyce !” with a long look at the miniature. 
“What a dear little thing she was! How well I re- 
member when she died! I was only a boy, but it 
impressed me powerfully. Mother always would have 
it that the child was grossly mismanaged, and no 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 235 


doubt she was right. How should a cross-grained, 
cantankerous old maid like your aunt know what was 
best for a high-strung, delicate little creature like 
that! You were wild, I remember, when you found 
out that the child was buried without allowing you 
to come from school. That was a cruel thing. Every 
one said that it was malice prepense on Miss Lester’s 
part. We all saw that she was wildly jealous of 
Joyce’s manifest preference for you — even in that 
dreadful time she must have the little dead body all 
to herself! She was an odd character,” shaking his 
head prodigiously over this tragedy of my boyhood 
which was the means of a complete break with my 
old aunt, who repented in after years and left me 
her filthy lucre in a belated effort to make amends 
for a wound that was mortal. 

I winced at the mere recollection and pressed close 
to me the little replica of that loved sister in a sudden 
transport of possession. I looked down at her now 
where she lay on my arm, the personification of Con- 
tentment, her microscopic thumb tucked between the 
rosy lips and one dimpled fist clutching my finger. 
Her long-lashed lids fluttered up at me one minute 
in a glance of supreme satisfaction, and swept her 
cheek with drowsy grace the next. 

4 ‘ Here, hang it ! ” I burst out all at once ; 1 ‘ 1 ’m 
forgetting again. This kiddie must have her feed. 
Where in time is that limb of the lower regions, 
Jenny ? I ’ll discharge her, as I did her incompetent 
predecessor, if she doesn’t walk chalk; see if I 
don’t!” I fumed, wrathfully. 

‘ ‘Come, sweeting!” with a little shake; “It ’s not 
time for the sandman yet, not for a good couple of 


236 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


hours/ ’ and I got upon my feet and rang the bell 
lustily. 

Glen watched me with interested amusement. 

“Well, you ’re in your element for fair now, 
Deane. You had the earmarks of a pater familias — 
or is it hallmark, now? I forget; but whichever it 
is, you ’ve had it from your cradle, I expect. It ’s 
a mighty taking, an absorbingly interesting stunt, 
I ’ll say that for it, and decidedly becoming to your 
somewhat bulky style of beau — ” 

‘ ‘ Oh, shut up ! ” I flung at him, politely, as a 
trim maid appeared, to whose palpably indifferent 
hands I reluctantly consigned the kidlet, with stern 
injunctions to look after her little charge better, and 
to give her some oatmeal gruel and milk at once. I 
was obviously speaking to deaf ears, however — the 
simpering glance the jade threw Glen told me that. 
There should be a shaking up of the dry bones in 
this establishment (looking toward service on a more 
cosmic basis) instanter! I promised myself, grimly, 
as I turned to Glen. 

In the talk that followed I found that Glen had 
come West on a little matter of business connected 
with the settling of the estate, although I had a mis- 
trusting suspicion that the lure of ’Nita’s “counter- 
feit presentment” was the primal attraction. I could 
have looked after his interests quite well. However, 
I was glad he had come, for Nell’s condition had 
become so critical in the last week that I was at my 
wits’ end for fair. 

The opportunity to throw a part of my burden 
upon Glen’s capable shoulders was too good to lose; 
I saw nothing for it but to make a clean breast of the 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 237 


whole business. He was absolutely to be trusted, 
I knew that well. It was not from any fear that he 
would betray it that I had hitherto withheld my con- 
fidence. It was only because — oh, well, I hardly 
knew, myself. I shrank primarily from talking Nell 
over with even my nearest friend, when no good could 
come of it. She was far too precious to me for that. 
Now — 'well, now it was different. Her very reason, 
nay, perhaps her life itself, depended upon finding 
the missing baby. 

Glen would be a host in himself ; he had a positive 
genius for mysteries, fairly reveled in them, and 
always had. Accordingly I told him everything — 
there was no good keeping anything back. Glen said 
little, though I could see that he was completely 
flabbergasted by the uniqueness of the situation. He 
merely nodded his head absently once or twice, asked 
me how I had arrived so quickly at the conclusion 
that Madge was the missing twin, and then turned 
at once to discussing the chances for and against his 
being able to find any trace of the lost Rex. 

It was with a perceptible lightening of the load 
of responsibility I had carried alone so long, that I 
listened to the amateur detective discoursing on the 
trail he meant to follow, repudiating with contumely 
the well-worn devious path along which I had elected 
to blunder these weeks past. He fired pertinent ques- 
tions at me with bewildering frequency, pouncing 
down with unerring instinct upon the weak points in 
the siege we had been waging. After he had pointed 
them out I could see plainly enough the mistakes we 
had made. 

Glen proposed to drop everything for a bit (“since 


238 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


we had been trying to beat our way with hammer 
and tongs into the heart of the puzzle/’ as he put it) 
and allow the affair to become glazed over with the 
next big scandal that came on the tapis. No one 
was to know he had any connection with the case; 
nobody! — to which I rather demurred at first, but 
Glen was obdurate; so I had to give in. 

He would find the boy if it were humanly pos- 
sible; of that I felt sure. He always did find out 
things; luck was generally with him in any enter- 
prise with which he was connected. I used often to 
say, in the old days, that the stars in their courses 
fought with and for, instead of against him, and I 
reminded him of this now. 

“Oh, I ’ll be there with cow-bells on, when it 
comes to the denouement , never fear,” he assured me, 
with open egotism — an insouciant , disarming kind of 
egotism, however, totally without affinity to that 
vaunting, brazenly self-conceited variety. 


CHAPTER XIV 


Little Daphne 

In nothing was this favoritism of fortune better 
exemplified than in Glen’s introduction to ’Nita, 
whom he had about as much chance of knowing inti- 
mately in the ordinary course as he had of hobnob- 
bing on terms of cameraderie with the exclusive Queen 
Mary of England; for ’Nita, with good reason, de- 
spised all and sundry of the male contingency, classi- 
fying them indiscriminately for a perverted and stiff 
generation of vipers, or terms equally scathing and 
to that effect. 

But with Glen she was put so completely in the 
wrong she had to unbend, whether she would or no; 
and of course, having done so, there was no going 
back — trust Glen to burn her bridges for her. 

The way it all came about was like this : I had 
been giving ’Nita an airing in the electric. Nell had 
been having some bad nights again, and ’Nita was 
worn out trying to soothe the poor girl into a sem- 
blance of rest. I was much worried when I saw 
’Nita’s pale cheeks. We should have her down upon 
our hands again, I told Nora, if we didn’t look out. 
Consequently I had advised a long outing in the mild 
January air, unusually mild for the time of year. 
We had driven through Lincoln Park by way of the 
beautiful Lake Shore Drive, which commanded a 
view of the sparkling blue waters of the lake, whose 
239 


240 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


turbulent waves were to-day rather milder than I 
had seen them for some time; their “ thunderous 
snows ’ ’ falling far short of the usual limit. Never- 
theless, the wind being in the east, the breakers rolled 
in in foam-crested, rhythmic half-circles that beat 
on the break-water with loud-voiced harmony. 

In the neighborhood of the animal-houses, well 
toward the center of the park, I spied Davis just dis- 
appearing underneath his new touring-car, which 
stood motionless at the side of the drive hard by. 
I stopped, as a matter of course, to see if there was 
any first-aid-to-the-injured act I could perform for 
him. Being a novice at the business, having just 
learned to operate his new toy, I guessed he would 
have trouble locating the difficulty; so I sauntered 
over, leaving ’Nita instructions to draw deep breaths 
of the lake-ozone against my return. 

It chanced that Glen had chosen this afternoon to 
visit the animals in their winter quarters with little 
Madge, or Daphne, as we more often called her, such 
an airy, dancing little elf -sprite was she becoming in 
the light of affection that shone over her starved little 
heart. Glen and I made much of her, to the point 
of spoiling; but, then, she was totally free from self- 
consciousness, happily. No amount of petting and 
indulgence seemed to affect her. It would have been 
a pity to dominate with strict laws the shy, eerie, free 
spirit that glimpsed from those mystic brown eyes. 

Glen had spent a happy couple of hours enjoying 
at second hand the bliss of feeding peanuts to the 
elephants, of quaking at the wild roarings of the lion 
rampant in his prescribed area, to say nothing of the 
joy of looking fearfully down the huge, red lane the 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 241 


hippopotamus obligingly opened for their private 
and particular behoof, from his watery den, at the 
instigation of the keeper, whose palms were well 
greased by prodigal Glen. 

Warned at last by unmistakable signs of drowsi- 
ness and a half-hearted attempt to suck her thumb 
that Daphne’s feedtime was approaching, Glen tucked 
her into the go-cart and wheeled her toward the outer 
environs of the park. Our house was not far away, 
and he was proceeding leisurely along, talking now 
and then to rouse the sleepy baby, who succumbed at 
last, in spite of him, to the drowsy god. 

It chanced that the route home took them past 
the driveway where ’Nita sat waiting for me in the 
electric. An exclamation of amazement broke from 
her the minute she saw Glen and his little charge. 

A couple of lithe bounds brought her from the 
coupe to the twain, where she electrified Glen by 
seizing the sleeping Daphne “ without once saying, 
‘By your leave?’ and immediately proceeding to take 
hers forthwith,” as Glen told me afterward, only he 
put out a restraining hand and caught at her cloak. 

“She blazed round at me quite wildly; then,” he 
said, “with little Daphne held face downward on 
her shoulder, I could see the flash of fire in her big 
dark eyes through the veil she wore. 

“ ‘Well, sir, what have you to say to me?’ quoth 
she, in such a frozen voice, I felt an appreciable drop 
in the circumambient at once. 

“ ‘What have I to say?’ I repeated, in an exas- 
perated tone ; for I was getting pretty well peeved up 
about this time, as you can well imagine. 

“ ‘Yes, what have you got to say for yourself? 

ie 


242 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


I wonder yon have the nerve to stand there and braz- 
enly try to face out this affair. You look respectable, 
too,’ openly taking stock of my many charms with 
an air that said, plainly : ‘ This is too much ; much too 
much! I must say I should think you could be in 
better business than stealing tender babies from their 
mothers’ arms. Poor little precious!’ kissing the 
child with a world of tenderness. 

“I give you my word, Deane, I was completely 
stumped for the minute. I made sure you had com- 
passed one grand mistake when you annexed little 
Daphne, and that avenging Fate in the shape of the 
child’s bereaved mother stood there transfixing me 
with her eagle optics. I was beginning to stammer 
out a lame excuse, backing out of the affair with what 
grace I could scare up, when the supposed mamma 
gave vent to a subdued sort of shriek and threw back 
her veil with a hasty movement, staring at the waking 
Daphne with dilated eyes. 

“ ‘Why — how strange!’ drawing one daintily- 
gloved hand across her brow in bewildered fashion. 
‘Rex!’ giving the baby a little shake. ‘You are our 
little Rex, surely! I must be blinded, somehow,’ 
rubbing here eyes in a dazed sort of way, then bring- 
ing them to bear once more upon the midget now 
struggling to a sitting posture in the girl’s arms, 
losing her little cap in the mix-up, disclosing a mass 
of chestnut curls, whereat the young woman’s face 
assumed a disappointed, hopeless expression, which 
quickly succeeded to abashed consciousness when she 
remembered her scathing remarks to me of a moment 
gone. 

“I was quite sure I knew the Indian girl the 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 243 

minute she threw back her veil, hut when she called 
Daphne ‘Rex,’ that clinched the matter; and mighty 
relieved I was, I want to tell you. This thing of 
being caught with the goods is a devilish, uncomfort- 
able sensation, b’lieve me!) I felt sixty different 
species of thief in as many seconds. I ’d hate to 
duplicate the stunt, let me tell you. 

“But ’Nita was holding forth once more. 

“ ‘I — I — I hn sure I beg your pardon, sir,’ she be- 
gan, a lovely red staining the rich olive of her cheek. 

‘ I do n ’t know what you must think of me — it is a sad 
mistake on my part — here, take back your baby ! ’ as 
that little imp set up a howl at this instant, emitting 
shrill, staccato-like schreeches for ‘Daddy, daddy ! ’ 
that generic term of hers for all representatives of the 
masculine persuasion. 

“ ‘Oh, that ’s all right/ I told the girl in an off- 
hand way, receiving the eager Daphne with palpable 
awkwardness and going a vivid scarlet in the phiz at 
once, judging by the heat wave that scorched over it. 

“Miss ’Nita couldn’t take her eyes off Daphne; 
she seemed fascinated by the startling resemblance to 
the missing Rex and said so at once, at the same time 
taking one of the dimpled little hands and kissing it 
softly, to the decided distaste of that small maid who 
drew back rather pettishly, for her, from the lovely 
face so near her own. 

“Bad taste, if you ask me, shockingly bad taste. 
D’ye know I ’ve noticed before that our little fairy 
disdains the society of woman in the strangest way? 
Her experience with the sex must have been a corker, 
b’lieve me. Just at this juncture you came up and 
introduced me to Miss ’Nita, while Daphne, with her 


244 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


usual fickleness when you appear upon the scene, 
shrieked out another demand for ‘ daddy !’ with you 
for goat this time, to the entire mystification of the 
young lady,” finished Glen, chortling at the recollec- 
tion. 

“Don’t look so puzzled, Miss ’Nita,” he admon- 
ished her, laughingly; “we are only 4 daddy’ to this 
little elf because she learned to call men-at-large by 
that endearing term, Deane tells me, from hearing one 
of his neighbors trying to teach his young olive branch 
to know the name. Daphne picked it up wholly with- 
out catching on to its real significance, and in spite of 
all we can do she insists upon calling every man daddy 
ever since.” 

Soon after this we separated. I was obliged to 
go back to Davis. He had put his coil-box completely 
on the hummer by his unskilled tinkering; it would 
take some time yet to get it in working order, so I 
asked Glen to finish ’Nita’s airing for me, which he 
agreed to, with suspicious alacrity, before she could 
get in a single demur. So they drove off, ’Nita taking 
charge of Baby Daphne, while I took the go-cart to 
one side to wheel home as soon as my job with Davis 
was finished. 

This was the beginning of many such drives for 
Glen and ’Nita, for Glen made good use of his enter- 
ing wedge to worm his way into the good graces of 
the rather thorny ’Nita with consummate art, never 
seeming to care particularly for her society, smiling 
tolerantly at her little innuendoes as one would at 
the vagaries of a fretful convalescent. This policy, 
together with the remembrance of her denunciation 
of him when they first met, completely disarmed the 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 245 


girl, and in the end they became the best of comrades, 
perfect congeniality obtaining between them. 

’Nita often came over and laid down the law to 
the new nurse, a capable middle-aged body who took 
it all with praiseworthy good-nature; but I observed 
that she had a way of carrying out her own ideas as 
soon as the beautiful ’Nita’s back was turned. As 
Daphne waxed plump and cheery under this joint 
management, I wisely took no notice. 

’Nita was overjoyed to find that little Rex had a 
sister and never tired watching over her. Indeed, 
she fussed over Daphne as a small miss does over her 
Christmas doll. Many a confab did Glen and the In- 
dian girl have over the proper order of life for the 
child ; I used to marvel that ’Nita failed to see the art- 
fulness with which Glen would start an argument for 
the simple pleasure of seeing her eyes take on a soft 
fire and her manner lose its aloofness in the warmth of 
the discussion. 

Glen, meanwhile, had not been lying down on his 
job of ferreting out clues for the lost Rex. I knew 
he was doing some outlandish kind of work at the 
theater, though he was very touchy about answering 
questions; so I failed to learn its exact nature till 
sometime afterward. I had a notion it was in the 
nature of super-work, which was the case as I found 
later. He kept up this Thespian stunt for several 
weeks, then, to my surprise, he left the city on very 
short notice and with only the briefest of notes appris- 
ing me of his intention, and at that he never said 
where he was going nor how long he expected to be 
gone. 

Nell was improving somewhat under ’Nita’s care, 


246 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


though she was still in a very weak state — a weakness 
that was very hard to combat, for the patient mani- 
fested no inclination to aid and abet the doctors. We 
took her for long rides in the electric, where she sat 
with her eyes fixed upon vacancy with never a light 
of anything approaching interest appearing in their 
stony depth. There was no appeal I could make to 
her now, with ’Nita restored to health, and Rex ap- 
parently gone for good. 

’Nita and I consulted with regard to informing 
Nell of the facts about Daphne, hut we could not agree 
as to the effect it might have. I, remembering the 
wild way Nell had rushed from the child’s presence, 
felt that the risk we ran of unsettling her again, was 
too great at this time. ’Nita maintained that the 
telling would not have the same effect that the actual 
sight of a baby so strangely like the lost Rex had had ; 
that it would, in fact, serve to give the poor, worried 
brain something besides its fears to work upon; and 
to this I fully subscribed. 

Nevertheless, I hesitated to tax the nervous system 
with the shock of a thing so strange, so altogether 
out of the ordinary. I suspected, too, that Nell would 
be a little leery of the business, anyway; she might 
not be able to see the thing as I did, especially now 
in her weakened state. Her judgment could not be 
normal, and the whole business was rather fishy, I 
had to admit, since at that time I could bring her no 
positive proof of the identity of Daphne, with the 
child taken ten months ago by Lady Nan. I dreaded 
to see any lingering doubt in Nell ’s eyes, and felt sure 
that by waiting a little longer her strength would 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 247 


return, and with it the power to assimilate the strange 
tale we had to tell. 

’Nita contended that there would be a tremendous 
advantage in assuring Nell that the letter she received 
from Lady Nan did not refer to Rex, consequently the 
evils therein set forth could not befall him. But I 
pointed out that this advantage would be more than 
offset by the intelligence that Daphne had been 
handed over to the enemy during a somnambulistic 
spell, which might, by its fatal power of auto-sugges- 
tion, deluge the victim with a return of the malady ; 
and, according to ’Nita’s account, Nell had been 
totally free from any symptom of the thing since they 
met in St. Louis. ’Nita intimated that this part of 
the story could just as well be left out, but I feared 
some slip might be made which would lead to its dis- 
covery, and since we could not predicate with any 
certainty the effect of our secret upon Nell, it seemed 
best to me to wait. 

As to the proper time for the telling, I had already 
been of so many minds that I was positively dizzy, 
at last, from the changes we rung upon it. There 
had been a singular reluctance on my part to share 
the knowledge with any one, at first, before Glen 
came; afterward I had to tell him the facts, in order 
to facilitate his researches. I wanted to hug to my 
bosom the great secret for a space — to revel in the 
joy of my little daughter’s possession — my little 
Daphne! My very own! Her love for me was a 
thing to marvel over, and we lived in a state of 
beatitude that was too wonderful to last, I feared. 


CHAPTER XV 


“His Course Is Run” 

A startling letter from Glen at this point served 
to throw us into a state of great excitement and horror. 
The letter was written from Reno, of all places, and 
contained the news of a terrible automobile accident, 
with both Grayson and Lady Nan for victims. Gray- 
son, it seems, had been killed outright, but the woman 
was still greathing when picked up. Subsequent de- 
velopments had proved that there were internal in- 
juries which, it was feared, coupled with the breaking 
of the left arm and leg and the nervous shock she 
had sustained would militate against recovery. 

4 ‘It is all horrible, horrible !” Glen wrote; “the 
worst accident I ’ve ever heard of. Grayson was 
fearfully mangled, and as for Lady Nan her worst 
enemy could not wish her a worse fate, she being the 
woman she is, for her beauty is quite gone; I never 
saw any one so dreadfully disfigured. And, if she 
recovers, it will be at the expense of her foot, the 
doctors say. So far, she has steadfastly opposed the 
operation, maintaining that death is far preferable. 

“I went to see her yesterday, getting in on the 
plea of nearest of kin, (and so I am; for didn’t your 
fourth cousin marry into my family?) and was 
shocked at the change in her. I told Lady Nan the 
story of your finding Daphne (at the risk of doing 
her serious injury, but I could not let her die without 
attempting to get some admission out of her so as to 
248 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 249 


establish the identity of our little maid with the lost 
twin) and at first Lady Nan was too wary to admit 
anything; but as I went on with my narrative, she 
became so furious at the miscarriage of her plans that 
she flew into a passion and made some damaging ad- 
missions, which I didn’t fail to point out to her at 
once. Whereat she raved some more, and not being 
quite her usual artful self, made some statements in 
her invectives against her fellow-conspirator, so that, 
with the facts already in our possession, there should 
be no difficulty in clearing things up beautifully. I 
have the name of the woman with whom Lady Nan 
left the child, in Chicago, and as you know the name 
of the street where you found Daphne, it ought not 
to be hard to get at the facts. The woman is a re- 
tired actress, well-known in New York, more notorious 
than famous, I believe. I would suggest that you take 
Daphne to this woman, pretending to return the child ; 
if the woman receives her, it will be proof of her guilt, 
when you can treat with her for the facts which you 
need to complete your chain of evidence. The woman 
will see at once that her game is on the Fritz, if you 
let her know Lady Nan ’s awful state, and to bribe the 
truth out of her ought not be such a task. 

“ Grayson was buried yesterday (the accident oc- 
cured four days ago). His brothers wrote that they 
could not be present, owing to serious illness in their 
families. Thought Mrs. Grayson would be interested 
in details, so made it a point to be present at the 
burial. She has no need to fear him now ; his course 
is run, and a bad one it ’s been from boy to man. 
I speak with authority, having known him from his 
college days. 


250 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


‘ ‘ Tell Mrs. Grayson I have good news for her ; with 
fair sailing, I think I can promise that she will see 
her hoy in excellent health in a very short time.” 
And there the letter ended. 

The provoking pnppy ! why did n ’t he tell us more ! 
This meager statement left us consumed with curiosity 
as to the whys and wherefores. 

Nell was quite wild with joy when we told her 
about Rex, hut it quickly subsided to a more sober, 
subdued sort of happiness when I mentioned the ac- 
cident and read to her the account of Grayson’s 
funeral. She said little ; what could she say ? Nothing 
of regret that was certain. The man had been a 
constant menace for months; the sense of security re- 
mained in spite of her horror over his tragic death. 
I had dared the risk of telling her for this very reason, 
well knowing that with the uncertainty concerning 
Rex’s fate cleared up, Nell would be able to bear any 
news however disquieting ; it would rouse her from the 
hopeless apathy into which she had fallen. 

In the interim of waiting for Glen’s return, I put 
his plan regarding the proofs needed for Daphne’s 
identity to the test. ’Nita and I took the child to 

Madame B , whom we had no difficulty in locating, 

with the name supplied by Glen. She was conducting 
beauty parlors, we found upon consulting the tele- 
phone directory, so it was easy for ’Nita to make an 
appointment with her by ’phone, so as to preclude the 
possibility of her being out ; personal appointment be- 
ing imperative, it seemed, unless the attendance of her 
assistants were deemed adequate. The charges for 
the personal attendance of madame were proportion- 
ately high 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 251 

We found the establishment located just around 
the comer from the spot where I had found Daphne, 
upstairs over a drugstore. The result of the interview 
was satisfactory to all concerned, the woman having 
the sense to see that everything was at an end when 
we trapped her into taking Daphne back again. 

She was voluble in her denunciation of one, 
Frowsy, who had been the little nurse girl, it trans- 
pired, who had charge of Daphne. I had no difficulty 
in making out the “Fowsy” of Daphne’s piteous im- 
portuning, during the first days of her coming to 
me. * ‘ Fowsy ’ ’ must have been good to the child ; she 
(Daphne) clung so persistently to the notion of get- 
ting back to her. I gathered from Madame ’s remarks 
that she, herself, had been in the hospital at the time, 
hence knew nothing of the child’s loss till her dis- 
missal, a day or two previous to our visit. She had 
advertised for the lost baby, but I had long since 
ceased to look for any notice of this nature, so missed 
them. Frowsy, it appeared, had disappeared, fearing 
her mistress’ wrath when her remissness came out, 
and nothing had been seen of her since. 

Madame confessed her part in the clever scheme 
Lady Nan had thought out, when I showed her that 
it would be to her advantage, financially. And when, 
on my proffer of much gold, she produced the little 
garments worn by Daphne when she was taken from 
the house on St. Charles Avenue so many months ago, 
I felt that the chain of evidence was complete. 

To ’Nita I assigned the task of telling Nell about 
her new daughter, warning the girl to lead up to the 
facts with all the finesse at her command. 

“I first brought up the subject of Sukey’s strange 


252 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


behavior when Nell first came to consciousness, after 
Rex and Daphne were born,” ’Nita told me afterward. 
“Then, after we had discussed this awhile, and Nell 
had wondered for the tenth time what it all meant, 
I pointed out to Nell the strange inconsistencies you 
found in Lady Nan’s letter — her references to some 
other than Rex, as evidenced by her use of the words 
‘she’ and ‘her.’ Then I called attention to the two 
most convincing facts about the whole business: the 
scratched-out date, March 14th, at the head of the 
letter (which Nell in her excitement had never noted 
till now, when we examined it carefully through your 
lense ; I pointed out how near this date was to Rex ’s 
natal day), and the time the letter had taken to reach 
her — that curious discrepancy, which showed that the 
scrawl had been posted two weeks and more before 
Rex was lost. 

“Nell, who was beginning to wax skeptical over the 
plausibility of my tale, was quite taken aback when I 
showed her by actual calculation that the date Rex 
disappeared disagreed glaringly with the time re- 
quired for the momentous letter to reach her. I fol- 
lowed up my advantage quickly, you may be sure, by 
bringing out the little set of garments Daphne had 
worn when she was stolen. 

“ ‘Why! this is the very little kimono I ’ve hunted 
for so long!’ exclaimed Nell, in an astonished voice; 
‘and here ’s the little knitted jacket with the dainty 
blue border. I ’d know it anywhere, for here ’s the 
mark in one comer where I had to make a fleur de lis 
to hide the tiny tear it got when I had it washed after 
it was finished. Yes, see, ’Nita, it ’s a different shade 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 253 


from the rest. I tried in vain to match the yam. I 
always knew it would show, in spite of any amount 
of tubbing. Where on earth did you find it?’ 

‘‘And then I told her the grand news, and how 
I ’d been leading up to it all the while. Oh, Dr. 
Lovell, she was quite overcome for a minute ; her face 
got so white I thought she was going to faint, only she 
pulled herself together with a tremendous effort di- 
rectly; but I could see by the way she trembled that 
she could scarcely control her excitement and im- 
patience till the bonny girlie was placed into her 
arms! Oh, it was a happy Inoment for me when I 
saw her face light up with gladness as her arms went 
round her little daughter for the first time! She — ” 

“How did Daphne behave?” I interrupted, anx- 
iously, for this had been a moot point with us. We 
feared that the curious antipathy to women the child 
had always shown would foster a doubt in Nell's mind 
at the first go-off; and in the sad state of her spirits 
a trivial thing like this might go far toward breaking 
the effect of the chain of evidence we had forged with 
such care. 

“Oh, Daphne behaved like a lamb, the darling! 
Let Nell hug her up close, and submitted to be cud- 
dled and kissed in the most unaccountable way. You 
know she will never allow me to take such liberties, 
often as I Ve ached to do so. 

“ ‘Pitty yady pitty, pitty, yady !’ she kept saying, 
looking up into her mother ’s face with open apprecia- 
tion, which sent Nell off into a delighted ripple of 
laughter such as I Ve never heard from her since her 
father’s death, three years ago. It is a pity, I think, 


254 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 

that we had n ’t tried the experiment sooner. Daphne 
is so much like her baby brother, it would have gone 
far to prove our case, even without the little garments 

and the testimony of Madame B . Indeed, Nell 

calls the child Bex half the time, and takes such com- 
fort in the dear child !” finished ’Nita, reproachfully. 


CHAPTER XVI 


The Fatted Calf With Brass-Band 
Accompaniment 

“Well, perhaps you are right/ ’ I owned; “only 
you know we had to think of Nell’s sad state, too. 
She was far different before we heard from Glen. 
If once a doubt had entered her head we should have 
had our work cut out for us eradicating it.” 

I was pleased over this account of the first meeting 
of mother and child, nevertheless I sighed. I felt it 
a selfish thing, yet for the life of me could not over- 
come a sense of loss. 

Daphne had been so wholly mine these past weeks, 
had so grown into my heart I was keenly alive to what 
it would mean to give her up. I have a sneaking sus- 
picion that this fear, lurking unformed in the inner- 
most recesses of my mind, had turned the scale when I 
considered with ’Nita the question of informing Nell 
of Daphne’s existence. While the arguments I pre- 
sented were undoubtedly of weight, I unconsciously, I 
believe now, kept off the telling as long as possible. 

Queer. 

I had supposed that there was no sacrifice too 
great for me to make for my poor, worried Nell. I 
see now that I had dreaded the separation from my 
bright little Daphne, unspeakably. And that this 
was imminent, if we told Nell, was a matter of course 
255 


256 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


to me. I never doubted that she would want to keep 
the babies together. She was forced to leave Rex 
many hours in the day with only his nurse for com- 
pany. It would be a splendid thing for him to have 
a little sister to play with, and of course I had no 
right to make any demur. 

But how I should miss the little thing! How 
should I ever be able to give her up? A dainty bit 
of my sweet Nell, she seemed to me, that I might 
feast my eyes upon, could hug up to me with nary 
Mrs. Grundy to say me nay, in the days when the 
little mother would be gone out of my life — days 
when the longing for my lost Nell should be greater 
than I could bear without little Daphne to solace my 
lone hearth. I was fast learning to love the little 
cherub for her own charming little ways, as well — 
baby graces that multiplied daily. 

And the child seemed to return my idolatry with 
interest. 

Last night, getting in rather late from a State 
dinner-party with some Esculapian dignitaries, I tip- 
toed up to the nursery (a room adjoining and opening 
from mine) and stood worshiping before the tiny 
white bed, where its fairy occupant lay sleeping away 
with little dimpled bare arms and legs outflung in an 
attitude of careless grace. 

“My Daphne! my little Nell!” I murmured, 
fondly. 

She sat up instantly, as though I had called her, 
gave one of her sweet, rare smiles that seemed to 
fairly transfigure the baby face, and — 

“Daddy !” she murmured, drowsily, then sank 
back to sleep once more with the smile still lingering 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 257 


on the lovely carmine lips like the faint afterglow 
of a brilliant sunset. 

That rare, illuminating smile! 

Never shall I forget the first time it appeared. 
It had been some time after her coming before she 
learned to feel at oneness enough with her new abode 
to put it on tap, or to feel happy enough either, for 
that matter. Her little face was so soberly, gravely 
meditative, as a rule, as though she had the weight 
of the universe on her baby shoulders. So when a 
sudden, sparkling illumination crept over the little 
face one day when I returned after an unusually long 
absence, it was as if “a lamp had been kindled into 
flame inside of her, irradiating her from top to toe — 
an involuntary outflashing it was, of a hidden per- 
sonality, rare and fine and sweet,” and Nell’s was 
just like it — I had often remarked it. I had caught 
the child up to me in a transport of glad possession. 

Oh, the wondrous quaintness, the alluring, witch- 
ing charm that hovers chimera-like about the fresh, 
unsullied heart of a child. Hope undaunted, enchant- 
ment, rapturous beatitude without alloy, looks cryptic- 
ally forth from its eager, bright eyes. No mere 
nurses’ tales were those to which we listened, open- 
mouthed in our green and salad days. The fairies 
are not simply myths, not at all ! They are all about 
us; we meet them daily, peeping shyly forth from 
the sweet, mystic orbs of the babes around us — they 
are the true “ little people,” so old in story; the really, 
truly fairies that make of this work-a-day world 
enchanted ground! None can withstand the unac- 
countable fascination, the irresistible attraction that 
draws as the steel to the magnet. (Oh, insidious 


17 


258 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


Time! that inexorably transposes sober, commonplace 
changelings for the merry, romping elf -folk we love!) 

One day, a week or so later, I took Daphne over 
for a visit to her little mother, who was vastly im- 
proved, both in health and spirits, since Glen’s cheer- 
ing news about the boy and the knowledge of a new 
baby daughter gladdening her sore heart. 

We were all assembled in the little parlor taking 
tea, ’Nita, and Nell with little Daphne upon her lap 
eyeing the “cakies” with sober face, but not so much 
as peeping her manifest desire for one of the dainty- 
colored confections; and Nora passing a fresh round 
of her incomparable biscuit, her face beaming with 
yellow soap and a wide, Irish smile; and lastly, my- 
self, enjoying the domestic picture and the good 
things with a keenness all the greater for the sense of 
evanescence, of unreality that hovered over us. 

All at once the doorbell pealed through the house. 

We all started ; there was a certain quality to that 
ring — a something that made my heart beat faster; 
its effect upon the others was plainly no less marked. 
It was as though we waited breathless for some thing 
long expected. 

Involuntarily we rose to our feet, Nell hastily 
placing Daphne on the floor beside her chair. Nora 
set down the tray of biscuit with a bang that made 
them jump, bustled through the little reception hall 
and flung open the street door with feverish activity. 

The next instant a glad cry escaped her. 

We rushed with one accord to the archway and 
there was Glen coming breezily toward us with little 
Rex on his arm, beaming at the world-at-large from 
his vantage like a veritable baby king. 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 259 


“Hello, people !” quoth Glen, with pardonable 
pride in voice and mien. He flashed a look at ’Nita 
which made that rather thorny damsel drop her eyes 
suddenly and blush divinely; and well she might, for 
it comprehended all that a man would say to the 
woman of his love if occasion offered. 

Nell held out her arms with impatient eagerness 
for her boy, never doubting the event. 

But naughty Rex made a little face, looked from 
his mother to the expectant group that surrounded 
him, in a frightened way, then turned his back upon 
Nell and refused, in defiant baby-accents, to quit his 
new friend. 

“No, no; me want Jen; no, no! — Jen, Jen!” 
ready to howl in a moment, when Glen tried to place 
him in Nell’s outstretched arms. 

Her arms dropped to her sides in a gesture of 
weariness. A spasm of pain constricted her mouth 
pitifully. She turned to me, blindly, instinctively: 

“Deane, Deane! my boy doesn’t know his mother. 
’Nita ! ’ ’ — as though suddenly remembering the others 
— “ ’Nita, my little Rex has forgotten me! me, his 
mother! — and I — I ’ve agonized for him all these 
cruel weeks, ’ ’ the tears springing to her eyes over the 
perversity of the little imp, who resisted strenuously 
all Glen’s efforts to coax him into a more tractable 
mood. 

“No, no! shan’t, shan’t!” as Glen tried to lift 
the little head hiding its face behind the friendly 
shoulder. 

“Here ; I believe I have it,” I began, a light break- 
ing in upon me. “There are too many of us staring 
him out of countenance. It ’s dollars to doughnuts 


260 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


the boy ’s frightened. Come,” picking up Daphne 
from the rug and setting an example by edging 
toward the dining-room. 

1 ‘ The saints presarve us ! The man ’s roight ! ” ex- 
claimed Nora, falling into line behind ’Nita. 

“That ’s it to a dot,” struck in Glen, with con- 
viction. “We ’re a little fwactious from our long 
ride, thank you, and this fatted-calf-prodigal-son gag 
is not just to our infantile mind, and I do n’t wonder 
— this long-lost-son stunt is n ’t what it ’s cracked up 
to be — take it from me, the one and only original 
prodigal son was probably bored to death by the 
whole jolly show. That ’s right. Clear out, every- 
body, except Mrs. Grayson — this is no time for a 
brass-band accompaniment, is it, Baby ? I should say 
not,” with a reassuring pat of the rebellious head. 
“Now we ’ll get these lendings off and toast our 
frozen tootsies.” 

From our vantage behind the partly-open door 
we saw him jerk off the little hood and cloak with 
deft movements and stand Master Bex upon his feet. 
Then he took off his own great coat. 

Nell stood a little to one side, watching Glen’s 
tactics with a half -smile for his absurdities lighting 
up her anxious face. Her expression changed to 
wonder when Glen produced a mysterious flask from 
his coat-pocket and proceeded to fill a little folding 
drinking-cup with a white fluid, which Rex consumed 
with an avidity that partly explained his peevish 
behavior of the minute since. 

“Well, what do you know about that!" exclaimed 
Glen, pouring out a fresh supply. “This eats thing 
is certainly making a hit here.” 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 261 


“Oh, wouldn’t you better warm the milk?” sug- 
gested Nell, anxiously. 

“Oh, it ’s warm,” Glen assured her, easily; “icy- 
hot bottle,” he explained, tilting the cup as the 
hungry baby devoured the toothsome mixture to the 
last drop, and then sighed contentedly as he sat down 
upon the rug before the gas-log. 

Nell lifted the lid of a cabinet near-by, presently, 
took out something and advanced, in a gingerly man- 
ner, to the rug and sat down beside the boy. 

“There, now, take his ‘ teddy ’ — poor, poor teddy 
has been so lonely,” she said, in a matter-of-fact sort 
of way. 

The child looked at her curiously, as though see- 
ing her for the first time, took the teddy obediently, 
but his eyes never for a moment left the lovely face 
bending over him with such a world of tenderness in 
every feature. A faint expression of perplexity 
stirred the sober little face — was “memory sort of 
turning over in its sleep?” Bex looked from Nell to 
the teddy, then around the room, taking stock of his 
surroundings with round-eyed wonder. 

“Come to mother, sweetheart; come, won’t you?” 
coaxed the exquisite voice, supplemented by eager 
arms held out yearning- wise. The child looked at her 
steadily a minute, then going down upon “all fours,” 
with his hands palms downward on the floor, humped 
up his back and raised himself laboriously upright, 
after a few unsteady wobblings of the chubby little 
legs. 

This thing must be met upstanding, it seemed. 

He put out a tentative hand and stroked Nell’s 
face softly when she repeated her pleadings. 


262 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


“Why, muwer’s boy can walk — what a big man 
— y — come, darling, come!” 

“Mu wer?” he repeated, with a shrill, rising 
intonation, as though the word brought some vague 
recollection to his groping brain, and then after an- 
other look, stumping straight into the arms so long- 
ingly held out. Nell clasped him close with a glad 
cry, and rocked him back and forth in the exuberance 
of her joy. 

Glen left them together and came up to us with 
grimy, coal-dusty hands outstretched. 

1 1 Say, any place to perform some needed ablutions 
in this bungalow? I Ve felt like thirty cents ever 
since we struck this blooming old burg — was afraid 
to put the kiddie down an instant in the train. I 
managed his toilet after a fashion, but my own has 
languished sadly, which see,” with a wry face, as he 
pointed out a distinct smudge on his handsome nose, 
which he declared he himself could see, so nobly pro- 
portioned did it loom up. “And — oh, in here? — all 
right. Save me some of that good-smelling stuff, will 
you ? I could eat a raw dog ! ’ ’ with a comprehensive 
gesture toward the tea equipage Nora was bringing 
from the parlor. 

“Sure, we ’ll just make you the best cup of tea 
you Ve ever had, won ’t we, Nora ? ’ ’ interposed ’Nita, 
bustling toward the kitchen as though there were 
nothing too good for the young man who had restored 
the darling of the household. “Come, Nora, we ’ll 
get up a rather more substantial spread than the 
one that was so pleasantly interrupted.” 

And thereupon ensued a stir of arrangement in the 
culinary department, which augured some good things 
anon. 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 263 


It had been a study to watch the changing expres- 
sions that flitted across ’Nita’s face while Glen was 
performing the fatherly act with little Rex. Evi- 
dently Glen was a new type to her ; his off-hand deft- 
ness with the fretful youngster, his absolute uncon- 
sciousness of anything out of the ordinary in his min- 
istrations was a revelation, even to me, and I, in 
common with ’Nita, regarded him with increased re- 
spect. 

Daphne meanwhile had trotted into the next room 
and stood at gaze, arrested by the spectacle of a new 
madonna and child after beneficent Mother Nature. 
Daphne walked up with hesitating steps, and after 
some few minutes of interested wonder poked a tiny 
finger tentatively into Rex’s rosy cheek. 

“Pitty baby, pitty, pitty baby,” she announced at 
last, in a caressing voice. 

Rex surveyed her with sober-eyed calmness, taking 
her presence with phlegmatic tolerance, at first, 
though it speedily changed to a vaguely-disturbed air 
when Nell put him on his feet beside Daphne and 
called my attention to the marvelous likeness in form 
and feature they bore each other. "With the excep- 
tion of eyes and hair, they were exactly similar, a 
perfect replica the one of the other. 

I pointed out to Nell that Daphne ’s face was more 
animated in expression at times, her movements were 
lighter, too, like the darling little fairy that she was ; 
while Rex was a thought more sturdy, more chubby, 
possessed less of the dainty, delicate beauty of his 
sister, as befitted a boy. I noted, though I said nothing 
to Nell, that just now this sturdiness was not so ap- 
parent ; his absence from the maternal care had mili- 


264 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


tated somewhat against the robust ensemble that was 
natural to him. 

“Here ’s a new baby-sister, Rex; kiss little 
Daphne, that ’s a dear/’ coaxed Nell, anxious to dis- 
sipate the sense of hostility that seemed to pervade 
the very air since Daphne had appeared. ‘ ‘ Do n ’t 
Rex like little sister? poor little girlie — she ’s had 
nobody to love her till now — that ’s a nice brother, 
kiss sister, ’ ’ trying to press the rebellious baby up to 
the interested Daphne. 

But Master Rex humped up the shoulder nearest 
his sister and only puckered up his little button of 
a mouth into a decided pout. 

“Then Daphne, kiss brother,” went on Nell, 
rather unwisely, I thought. 

The flower of brotherly affection should be allowed 
to unfold naturally, spontaneously, it appeared to me. 

Daphne, always obedient, opened her carmine lips 
and pressed her mouth against the recalcitrant baby ’s 
cheek. She likewise put her arms out and generously 
bestowed a little hug, as well, for good measure. 
There was nothing mean about the small maid, bless 
her ! No doubt she welcomed this new addition to her 
growing circle of friends, heartily, for she was a 
social little soul. 

Rex was nonplused for the minute, his face ex- 
pressive of the liveliest disgust, however; and a mo- 
ment later he cast down the cherished teddy petu- 
lantly on the floor, and lifted up his voice in a howl 
of chagrin. Evidently no one could take undue liber- 
ties with impunity. 

Nell, endeavoring to calm the troubled waters, was 
succeeding beautifully when, unfortunately, Daphne 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 265 


picked up the teddy which lay on its side in an atti- 
tude of melancholy depression, and began to nurse 
it tenderly. 

This was the last straw. 

* ‘No, no! my teddy — shan’t, shan’t! Teddy, 
teddy ! ’ ’ the angry tears glittering afresh, and the 
insistent baby-hand tugging at the bone of conten- 
tion with a tenacity that threatened imminent dis- 
memberment, for Daphne held on from sheer surprise. 
She would have given it up at a word, but I waited 
the event with interest. It was Nell’s funeral, and I 
wanted to see how she would cut the Gordian knot 
(to vary the metaphor) — it would be a supreme test 
of maternal wisdom, I opined, for this was a critical 
moment : her lost baby just restored to her after such 
wearing anxiety. Almost any mother would have 
pacified her baby, at any sacrifice, to discipline. But 
Nell, though she struggled palpably with her inclina- 
tions, rose to the occasion with praiseworthy firmness. 

1 1 Oh, oh ! what a naughty ! — no, no, this will never 
do. Let sister have the teddy. Rex threw it down, 
sister must keep it mow. Oh, what has come over 
mother’s good little boy! Dear, dear, what a tem- 
per!” as the baby cast himself down on the floor and 
lifted up his voice once more in a deafening roar that 
betokened a healthy pair of lungs as well as a spoiled 
temper. 

Nell gave me a comical look of despair. Her lips 
moved, but what she said, it was impossible to distin- 
guish from the importunate wails of her small son. 

Daphne stood with the teddy held tight by one limp 
paw, her eyes widening momentarily. 

“Baby cwy, baby cwy!” she kept saying, as I 


266 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


finally made out after Rex’s roars trailed off to less 
terrific volume. “My cwy, too!” she announced, 
plaintively, at last, the big tears gathering in the 
limpid, brown eyes and rolling down over her straight 
nose in a sympathetic shower, though not a sound 
came from the quivering lips. 

Nell caught her up quickly, her own eyes suffused. 

“No, no, sweetheart! don’t do that. Brother 
must learn to be good. In the interest of law and 
order, discipline must be maintained; though the 
role of Spartan, mother is hard just now, I own, ’ ’ with 
a whimsical smile at me through her tears. ‘ ‘ Daphne 
mustn’t take other people’s troubles to heart like 
this,” wiping away the briny drops from the blinking 
little eyes and kissing the grieved mouth tenderly, 
“she ’ll have enough of her own, come a few more 
years,” rather sadly. 

Rex, meanwhile, had stopped in stupefied surprise 
on finding himself and his little grouch so completely 
ignored while the enemy copped both the teddy and 
his mother’s sympathy. When he tried to take up 
his howls where he had left off, the fount of tears 
gave alarming symptoms of having dried up alto- 
gether, to the exceeding consternation of the small 
man who thereupon, nothing daunted, proceeded to 
augment the traitorous flow, or cover up the grievous 
lack, by sundry, palpably-forced cheeps — long-drawn- 
out howls of counterfeit baby -woe that made me, and 
Glen (who had come in the minute previous) sink 
down on some chairs in helpless laughter. 

“Glen, you beggar!” I gasped, when I could 
speak, “you ’ve spoiled that little rascal shamelessly. 
He ’s not the same child, at all.” 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 267 


“I admit the harsh impeachment,” he confessed, 
brazenly, glorying in the deed evidently. “Hang it, 
Deane,” with a change of tone; “if yon ’d seen the 
child when I first got hold of him,” lowering his 
voice, with a glance toward Nell, who had gathered 
both babies in her arms and sat rocking them gently 
over by the window, “you ’d have aided and abetted 
me. Why, I was actually afraid to bring him straight 
home — waited for the bruises to heal, and for him to 
learn to see a man without screaming. He was fret- 
ting himself to death under that brute Grayson’s 
harsh treatment. The nurse he had brought from 
Chicago had thrown up her job in disgust and was 
about to lay the case before the Humane Society when 
I got hold of her. It was through her letters that I 
traced the boy in the first place, you know.” 

“Yes, tell us how you found him,” said Nell, turn- 
ing round at these words as though just taking in 
the trend of the talk. “I have not thanked you yet 
for your kindness — I — I simply can’t. There are no 
words in any language strong enough to express my 
gratitude.” But Glen would not let her go on. 

‘ ‘ That ’s all right , 9 9 he interrupted, peremptorily ; 
“we 11 just consider it settled that you have the 
tongue of a William Jennings Bryan, the eloquence 
of a Frances Willard, and the foreefulness of a Carrie 
Nation, and have exhausted your ornate vocabulary 
in the act, then, and let it go at that,” he finished, 
in an ofl-hand voice. 

“Oh, I ’m not through yet, not half; but I 11 
finish my oration with deeds, not words — if I ’m 
vastly mistaken, unless my observation has misled 
me, I ’m sure there is something that I can do to 


268 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 

show my appreciation in a far better manner than 
by cold speech — you. shall see !” with an illuminating 
nod of her brown head toward ’Nita, who came in 
at this moment to announce “supper is now served 
in the dining-car ahead, ” with a little moue of 
camaraderie in Glen’s direction that made Nell and 
me exchange a smile of comprehension. 


CHAPTER XVII 


Glen’s Story. 

Soon we were all settled cosily about the round 
table in the sunny dining-room. Nell, with Rex (now 
his usual tranquil self once more) on her lap, for she 
could not bear him out of sight nor touch for a mo- 
ment. Daphne sat beside me, enthroned in Rex’s 
high-chair like a little princess, while ’Nita and Glen 
faced one another (and be it recorded under the rose 
— sparred rather less than usual), across a low design 
of carnations and fern. Nora bustled about passing 
coffee or tea, and a plate piled high with a fresh 
batch of hot biscuit, around the board. Nell started 
the ball rolling at her end of the table by plying us 
in turn with a platter of golden fried chicken, and 
another of spiced tongue ; likewise a delicious, shrimp 
salad blushing appetizingly out of its garnishment 
of lettuce leaves. 

We chattered and laughed like a set of children 
out on an unexpected holiday, appreciating our own 
crude jokes with a hilarity out of all proportion to 
their merits — jokes that in saner moments would have 
called forth scarcely a smile, proving the verity of 
the trite saying that we laugh more out of our moods 
than from any virtue in the wit. 

“Now, Glen, tell us how you found the boy — 
unbosom yourself, do ! I’m bursting with curiosity 
to learn how you accomplished what the entire police 
269 


270 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


force of the city, and some crack detectives to boot 
(to say nothing of the herculean labors of yours 
truly), failed lamentably to bring about,” I said, 
after the dessert (a frozen pudding, that I had a 
shrewd notion was to have formed the piece de re- 
sistance of the dinner this feast had supplanted) had 
been on the table for some minutes. 

“Well,” quoth Glen, as easily as he could for the 
mouthful of cake he was munching; “it was this 
way : I had a strong conviction that my one best bet 
lay in being johnny-on-the-spot at the scene of the 
abduction, ’ 9 swallowing a huge bit of pudding at one 
fell gulp. “And sure enough, I hadn’t been super 
a week before things began to happen. ’ ’ 

“I do n ’t doubt it, ” I struck in ; “ things do have 
a way of beginning to happen as soon as you get 
your finger in the pies ! ’ 

‘ ‘ The most illuminating of these was a quarrel 
(that threatened to degenerate into a genuine rough- 
house) which arose between two of the chorus girls, 
and of course the mud began to fly forthwith. The 
blondined fairy accused the dusky ditto of being no 
better than her bosom friend who had eloped with the 
New Orleans ‘slob/ masquerading all the while as 
his nurse-girl. Some dark, inscrutable hints at this 
point as to the child needing a nurse, made me keep 
my weather eye open to its widest extent for more. 
Of course, when the New Orleans man was put on the 
tapis, I smelt a whole garret full of rats, and as soon 
as the belligerents had been separated by the dis- 
tracted stage manager and a call-boy, after the whole- 
sale dislodgment of gobs and gobs of golden and 
midnight-black store hair, I made it my business 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 271 


to cultivate the acquaintance of the blondine queen 
during the next wait between scenes. ’ ’ 

Go on, go on,” I urged, impatiently, as Glen 
toyed reminiscently with his cake. “What happened 
next ? ’ * 

“Eventually I learned that Grayson came to the 
theater as a result of a pick-up flirtation he was carry- 
ing on with one of the chorus girls who chanced to 
be staying at the same hotel. At the theater he saw 
Nell, of course — I beg pardon, Mrs. Grayson, I should 
say. Everybody else calls you Nell; it comes very 
natural to fall into the habit, particularly as no one 
has seen fit to introduce us properly,” finished Glen, 
leaving his under-done sentence stranded amidst this 
half apology. 

“Oh, you may call me Bridget Maloney, if you 
want to, Glen (you see I have no scruples of the sort), 
after what you have done for me,” beamed Nell, her 
eyes bent upon the beggar with such a look of venera- 
tion I stirred uneasily, and best friend though he 
was, longed, on the spot, to kick him. 

“Well, then, Grayson saw Nell with the boy one 
day at the theater and at once conceived the plan of 
abduction, which he afterwards carried out. The 
nurse fell asleep, as you know (after partaking of 
some drugged candy supplied by the chorus girl), 
and then the latter took Rex from his cart and handed 
him to Grayson, who was on hand just outside the 
greenroom door. They chose a time when nearly 
everybody was engaged in the big scene of the piece, 
so that is how no one was on to their racket . 9 ’ 

“Have some more pudding, Mr. Dexter,” urged 
’Nita, demurely, with just a thought too much em- 


272 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


phasis on the Mister, as he finished his last spoonful 
of pudding regardless of ‘ ‘ manners, ’ ’ and absently 
plied the spoon round and round the empty dish. 

‘ ‘ Thanks ! It ’s against all the rules of the game, 
but here goes, ’ ’ handing over his dish, debonairly. 

“How did you manage to get the boy away from 
Grayson in Reno? that ’s what I ’d like to know,” 

I demanded, impatiently, as Glen paused and showed 
a tendency to confine his attention exclusively to the 
pudding. 

“Easiest thing, you know! — simply announced 
myself as the next friend at his headquarters, and the 
citadel capitulated without a single gun having to 
be fired. You see it was just after the accident, and 
everybody was up in the air; jolly glad to get the 
boy into responsible hands, they seemed. And of 
course my attitude of absolute sang f roid, you know ! 
they swallowed it whole,’ ’ returned Glen, his spoon 
poised half-way to his mouth with its toothsome con- 
tents, which disappeared as he finished speaking. 

“How did the accident occur? You said so little 
in your letters,” I questioned next. 

“Oh, let him eat in peace, doctor,” interposed 
’Nita, unexpectedly; “the tale will keep surely, since 
he ’s told the facts we ’re most interested in. Glen 
— I mean Mr. Dexter,” with an adorable blush, “has 
swallowed the first helping of pudding whole, trying 
to eat and perform a monologue act at the same time ! 
What will become of his digestion if this thing keeps 
up ? — and you a doctor, too ! ’ » 

“Oh, he ’s trying to work up a case. I see 
through him all right, all right,” chuckled Glen, with 
his mouth full; “but I ’ll fool him — I won’t hire the 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 273 


old quack ! ’ ’ and then we all roared afresh as though 
some oracle of wit and humor had perpetrated some 
specially ornate Ion mot. 

Nell went off soon after this to put Bex to bed. 
He had been nodding on her shoulder this good while, 
and though Nora would have taken him, the little 
mother refused to part with her treasure, making her 
excuses to us with easy grace as she stood framed in 
the archway, a rare picture of beautiful motherhood, 
urging the sleepy Bex to wave a “bye” to Daphne, 
who sat lifting drowsy lids to acknowledge the rather 
perfunctory “bye” that her brother piped compre- 
hensively to his sister and the company at large. 


18 


CHAPTER XVIII 


Exit Lady Nan. 

The evening was closing in, dusk had merged in- 
sensibly into darkness while Glen was finishing his 
story ; so I bundled Daphne up, and we left together, 
Glen and I, in the waiting electric, leaving our adieus 
for Nell with ’Nita; for sundry sounds from the 
upper regions told us that Nell was having a some- 
what strenuous time getting the tired, fretful little 
Rex into the soft and downy. So we knew we could 
not hope to see her for a considerable time. 

’Nita stood in the doorway, a beautiful figure, 
tall and lithe as a young nymph of the wildwood, in 
her yellow and white gown, speeding the parting 
guests. 

“Keep Daphne well wrapped,’ ’ was her parting 
injunction; “the wind is cold and she was rather 
warm when you came out.” 

“That ’s my wife, Deane,” declared Glen, as he 
drove us away through the frosty, starlit night ; “yes, 
that ’s my wife,” nodding his head toward the girl 
with a positiveness that was three parts determined 
conviction and one part sheer clairvoyance. 

1 1 1 hope so, Glen ; she ’s a pearl of great price, ’ ’ I 
told him, heartily, and I meant every word of it. 

The ride home was a rather silent one after this, 
Glen presumably planning out the best campaign 
looking to the capitulation of his inamorata, and I 
274 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 275 

busy with the memories stirred by a little heart-to- 
heart talk I had had with Nell soon after I had ar- 
rived at the cottage and before ’Nita had come down. 
My arms tightened unconsciously round the sensuous 
little body, instinct with vitality, that nestled wearily 
against me. 

“My little kiddie— mine! mine!— for Nell had 
given her to me this afternoon, though I could see 
that it was not without a struggle that she had over- 
come the wish to keep her little daughter to herself. 

‘ ‘ I will have Rex ; I must not be selfish, ’ ’ she told 
me, when I demurred, though not very strenuously, 
I must confess, against depriving her of the child. 
“Besides, you have the best right to little Daphne, 
anyway. It was your faith, in the face of odds that 
would have daunted me, which gave her back to us. 
I shall see her often, of course. You will be going 
back to New York (I am well aware that you have 
only been staying on here out of kindness to me), and 
I, you know, have signed up with my old New Orleans 
company for a season in New York commencing in a 
few weeks, so I will not be absolutely bereft. 

For though Nell was so good about giving up 
Daphne, I could get no definite answer from her in 
regard to another matter that lay close to my heart. 

“No, Deane / 9 she had said, an earnest look in the 
mystic, brown eyes, when I pressed her to at least 
name the date, however remote, when I could claim 
her for my own. “There is no hurry; it wouldn’t 
be decent, you must see that ; why, Howard has been 
dead scarcely a month! No, no, I couldn’t do it, 
yet — ” and then she broke off, leaving me vastly re- 
lieved, I must say, in spite of the indefiniteness of it 


276 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


all, by her tacit acceptance of me. That little word 
“yet” took away the latent fear that had been tor- 
menting me, that she would feel it incumbent upon 
herself to sacrifice us both to some fetish of duty, 
conjured up in a super-sensitive conscience. 

But n-ow — well now, the waiting would be filled 
up with the hope that springs eternal ! And I should 
see her often, that was the best of it. My heart sang 
paeans of gladness at the thought. Were the weary, 
hopeless days really over? Would Destiny smile 
upon us in the wind-up ? A sense of unreality beset 
me — a vague fear that happiness, such as the future 
seemed to promise, was too heavenly sweet, too raptur- 
ous to be ours after all our trials. 

Then I fell to wondering over the tale Glen had 
told us. Queer it was that Grayson’s infatuation 
over a chorus girl should lead to Rex’s recovery. It 
was all of a piece, and eminently fitting that his Don 
Juan tactics should finally bring him to his last ac- 
count. 

Glen had told me that Lady Nan had quarreled 
with Grayson, during the fatal ride (so she let out 
inadvertently to Glen), over his questionable relations 
with the chorus girl he had brought from Chicago 
(ostensibly as Rex’s nurse-girl), and that Grayson ap- 
peared to lose all control of himself under Lady 
Nan’s taunts. His temper grew to such a white heat 
that he headed the car for a deep ravine and de- 
liberately drove over it. It was certainly the act of 
a madman, I told Glen — indeed the cruel treatment 
he accorded little Rex, an irresponsible baby, pointed 
to mental disability of a pronounced type. 

And to think, my thoughts veering to his partner 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 277 


in misfortune, that Lady Nan would have to submit 
to the loss of her right leg, after all! for that was 
Glen’s latest report. And there was the broken nose 
and crushed-in temple ; how would Lady Nan bear the 
loss of her beauty? she to whom it was ever the first 
consideration? What would a woman like her do 
with her life when all that made it worth while to her 
was so woefully depreciated? Richly as she deserved 
the Nemesis that had overtaken her, I almost found 
it in my heart to pity her. Death itself would have 
been more merciful, I mused, as we drew up before 
our own door. 

Glen drove the car around to the garage in the 
rear, while I took little Daphne up to the nursery and 
put her to bed, myself, after she had had her sup of 
milk. She was almost too sleepy to drink it and 
nodded drowsily all the time I was getting her into 
her nighty. She was sound asleep five minutes after 
I laid her in the little white crib. 

4 ‘Blessed little sleeper,” I murmured, kissing the 
closed eyelids softly before going down for a last 
smoke and confab with Glen. 

Before many weeks had passed, Nell was again 
singing with Manager Loyolles’ company in New 
York, and was making that sophisticated old burg sit 
up and take notice. Her wonderful voice, her in- 
comparable acting, her beauty and winsome person- 
ality were the theme of every tongue, The news- 
papers and other critics with one accord lauded her 
to the skies, and she woke one day to find herself 
famous, like many another struggling artist before 
her. 


278 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


And how beautiful she was! Freedom from the 
wearing anxieties of the past months had given her 
superb health and strength once more. She was 
happy in the success she had made, in the society of 
her children, and I hoped and believed my own was 
not unwelcome, ‘ ‘ not so you could notice it, ’ ’ as Glen 
would put it. 

Society at large was disposed to take her up, and 
in a short time would have feted and lionized her 
1 1 within an inch of her life” if she had not set her- 
self determinedly against it. 

‘ ‘No, Deane,” she said to me, rather sadly, once 
when I remonstrated with her for this ; * 4 between me 
and Society (with a capital S) there is an impassable 
gulf fixed. I shall enter but seldom its labyrinthine 
environs. A few friends are sufficient for me ; friends 
whom I can feel would never fail me, no matter what 
came up to try their faith. No, I ’ll follow my in- 
stincts in this matter, for the present, at least.” 
And though I grumbled a little at this decision, I 
owned to myself that she was right when I saw her 
going her serene way entirely unspoiled by the flat- 
tering attentions she received from the devotees of 
the aristocratic circle, the few times she graced it 
with her company. 

It had chanced that Grayson had never changed 
his will, made at the time of his marriage in favor of 
Nell (at the instigation of her mother, I doubt not) ; 
so Nell came in for everything. She at once made 
it over to ’Nita as a wedding-present, she said. 

For Glen had struck while the iron was hot, and 
’Nita, in her gratitude for Glen’s part in the restora- 
tion of little Rex, had not the heart to crush him with 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 279 

a look, as she scrupled not to do in the case of Davis 
when he rushed in where angels tread in fear and 
trembling. And Glen, seeing his advantage, was 
quick to follow it up to its logical conclusion, aided 
and abetted by Nell and me. 

We overruled all her objections relative to her 
past, which she insisted precluded the thought of love 
and its complement, marriage, for her. I could see 
how surprised she was when I told her that Glen 
knew all about Grayson’s villainy. And when she 
tried to stammer out a pitiful reference to the dead 
child, in her strict sense of rectitude, I stopped her 
at once. 

“Nonsense, ’Nita,” I scolded, though I admired 
her for her honesty; “you needn’t trouble yourself 
about these things. Glen is too sensible of the honor 
you are going to do him, realizing to the full what a 
girl in a thousand you are, to care what shadows lie in 
the past. He knows quite well they were not of your 
own making.” 

The pressure brought to bear upon her prej- 
udices was too much for her at last. Her heart 
turned traitor to them as well, and before she fairly 
knew what she was about, she found herself engaged 
and married, out of hand. But in the matter of 
Grayson’s money she was obdurate. Nothing Nell 
nor I could say moved her in the least. 

“No, my mind is made up,” she declared for the 
hundredth time, “you may save your breath to cool 
your porridge with, or whatever is its correct equiva- 
lent from the standpoint of high etiquette. I ’ll take 
half, but not a dollar over. If you can’t subscribe 
to that ultimatum, give the filthy lucre to the Hotten- 


280 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


tots or whatever worthy cause you please ; I shall cer- 
tainly have none of it.” And with that Nell was 
forced to be content, protesting all the while that with 
her enormous income she had no use for the money. 

i ‘Oh, you won’t always sing,” averred ’Nita, with 
a wise nod in my direction, where the twins, now 
happy, hearty youngsters, both, and the best of com- 
rades, were running riot over my knees with the 
abandon of assured proprietorship, till Nell came to 
the fore and claimed Daphne (whom I had brought 
over for a halfday’s visit) before a catastrophe should 
be precipitated. 

“No, she won’t always sing, will she, Deane?” 
repeated ’Nita, positively. 

“Oh, I don’t know,” I temporized; “she loves it. 
It ’s as natural for her to sing as it is to breathe; 
there ’s no reason that I can see why she shouldn’t 
indulge, both herself and the appreciative public. 
I ’m not going to be selfish; I should count it an ir- 
reparable loss to the world-at-large, if Nell hide her 
glorious light under a bushel, ‘as it were!’ or in the 
napkin of perpetual home-keeping. No, I think an 
occasional tour might be managed to the edification of 
all concerned, ’ ’ I finished. And then Nell smiled her 
thanks, as she cuddled her small daughter up in her 
arms, where the little curly-headed pixy-girlie lay 
with her thumb in her mouth, in an attitude of su- 
preme content, for she adored her beautiful “mum- 
sey,” as she called her. 

Glen and ’Nita wrote us a strange story, a little 
later, of the suicide of Lady Nan while crossing to 
England. It chanced that they were on the same 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 281 


vessel, bound for Liverpool, to take possession of my 
yacht in which the honeymoon was to be spent. The 
party having charge of the yacht had notified me that 
it could be found in the English port, coaled, pro- 
visioned, and manned for a long cruise, as per my 
directions. 

Lady Nan was sadly broken, according to Glen’s 
account. Rumors had reached us of this from mutual 
friends, previous to her embarking on the voyage to 
England. As I had foreseen, she had found life a 
burden since the loss of her beauty and grace. 

Unable to bear the thought of meeting her old as- 
sociates so maimed and broken, the call of Old Ocean 
had proved irresistible. 

When night fell on the day of the suicide, Glen 
and ’Nita, whose stateroom adjoined the dead wo- 
man’s, as it chanced, found a way of entering it 
through a door which had f ormerly connected the two 
rooms. The bolt which was fastened from the other 
side yielded to Glen’s efforts, after a wearying 
struggle, and the breaking of a couple of pocket- 
knives. An exhaustive search of the trunks and 
boxes proved the wisdom of the move ; for Lady Nan, 
vindictive to the last, had left a letter addressed to 
one of New York’s leading dailies, which set forth, in 
plain words, a vile accusation against Nell and me, 
which, if it had fallen into the hauds designated, 
would have placed a stigma upon Nell and her babes 
that the lapse of years of continued probity would 
have failed to remoye. Her profession would have 
damned her in many eyes, once a breath of scandal 
touched her. 


282 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


At the imminent risk of setting fire to the ship, 
the two amateur sleuths burnt the incriminating ef- 
fusion to ashes in the cuspidor, and so went up in 
flame and smoke the last dread menace against the 
fair repute of my little maid. 


CHAPTER XIX 


Aftermath — “All ’s Right With the 
World.” 

It was a little over a year later that I walked with 
eager steps through the grounds of my old home in 
the Hudson highlands. Some spruce trees gave forth 
a balsamic odor as I turned into a path that led 
through a stretch of velvet turf, bordered by birches 
and maples now putting forth fresh shoots of tender 
green. I mounted some steps, cut in the solid rock, 
leading to an airy, spacious, tree-girt eminence over- 
looking the river, now sparkling with dancing, length- 
ening shadows, for the sun was westering in a “huge 
bowl of pearl and sapphire brimmed with wine and 
fire.” 

I looked around over the hills and intervales with 
a swelling heart, for this was my heritage, made dear 
by a hundred associations and hallowed for all time 
now for its sanctuary of the three beings dearest on 
earth to me. Where were they? I wondered. Nora 
said I should find them in the grounds. 

I walked over to the summer-house, where a tangle 
of wild grapevines rioted in a profusion of greenery 
over its low gables. A book turned face downward 
on one of the benches, a lace shawl, with some childish 
gear of the twins tossed carelessly on a rustic rocker, 
told me that I was hot upon the trail. 

Strange, I heard nothing; the babies were not 
283 


284 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


wont to be so quiet; their shrill little voices usually 
rang through the wood in an abandon of childish 
gayety. 

It was the same old place, I mused for the tenth 
time in the last month, walking past a clump of 
syringa bushes and on through the rose garden with 
its natural terraces. Yes, it was the same old place 
that I had refused to allow old Bayes to alter (in 
favor of the cut and dried landscape gardening in 
which his soul delighted) when we talked over the 
business of setting the old place in order a few months 
back, after years of neglect, for Lady Nan had always 
refused to “bury herself” here. There were rustic 
stone bridges enough supplied by old mother Nature, 
scattered here and there through the grounds, and 
except where the ravines made it necessary, I told 
Bayes there should be no overhauling and digging 
up of turf to make place for bridges in all sorts of un- 
expected corners. The house, too, I had not allowed 
to be touched, except to install all the modern con- 
veniences, claiming that in its present state it ac- 
corded well, in its gray-stone-walled, vine-covered 
quaintness, with the wild beauty of the park sur- 
rounding it. And Nell fully concurred in this. 

What could have become of them? It seemed an 
age since that disturbing telegram had hailed me un- 
mercifully away from this elysian retreat to the dry- 
dusty business of collateral investments. And, after 
all, the matter had been nothing urgent — a few hours 
had served to set everything straight. It had been 
only another one of Grigsby’s fussy ways. I had 
turned back from New York and put on all speed for 
Greystone Hall once more. 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 285 


If it had n ’t been for that accident to the motor ! 
how weary-long the hours had seemed to me, mewed 
up in a dull, little village, too far from anywhere to 
board a train (its one daily flyer having passed 
through hours ago) or without even the comfort of 
sending a message to Nell about my mishap, for the 
wires were down somewhere along the line. 

And now it was a whole day later than I had, 
expected to be absent at the furthest calculation. 
For the motor had proved decidedly stubborn, re- 
fusing to be coaxed by the utmost skill of the village 
tinker and myself, into performing the functions for 
which it was designed, till late the next forenoon. 

A turn in the path gave me a view of the distant 
hills beyond the river so placidly taking its majestic 
way to the sea. And such a succession of noble hills 
as there was! fairly rolling and tumbling over each 
other in a riot of high green slopes and dimpled sunny 
vales. It was as if in some primal age the elements 
had, one and all, been engaged in a grand game of 
romps when, in the very act, some Jove’s thunderbolt 
had descended all suddenly and galvanized them into 
eternal stillness. 

A shrill trickle of laughter came to me borne on 
the mild June air. I wheeled at once and made off 
in the direction whence the merry sound had come. 
A flash of white among the thick copse just ahead, 
led me across an old stone bridge to a shady glade 
interlaced with wild grapevines and firs. A water- 
fall skurried murmurously over its rocky basin, filling 
the retreat with languorous music. 

Yes, there they were, hard by the duck-pond — 
the vines had hidden them. Rex, with his hat set 


286 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 

on the back of his head in a wide-awake fashion, 
stood perilously near the water’s edge trying to coax 
the timid swans and astonished ducks — aghast at 
this invasion of their erstwhile quiet perlieus) to 
come up and eat out of his hands ; while Nell, gowned 
in palest green, a-star with white blossoms worked 
into the gauzy fabric in delicate, lacey sprays, stood 
beside him with one hand clutching his white skirts, 
and the other strewing bread crumbs upon the lily- 
padded surface of the pond. Daphne danced light 
as a thistle down on the higher ground above them 
(for she was afraid of the water), shrieking with 
delight at every gobble of the hungry fowls, her tiny 
hands grasping the collar of Sphinx, the great St. 
Bernard, an old and valued pensioner of the home- 
stead. Some pigeons strutted and cooed proudly 
nearby, arching their necks in bright-eyed expection 
of a chance at the eats. They wheeled aloft in sweep- 
ing circles, with a whirr of white wings, when Sphinx 
came bounding toward me (nearly upsetting Daphne 
in his haste) with a bark of welcome. 

Nell turned at once and came to meet me; a 
radiant, joyous, young figure with her two little olive 
branches peeping shyly round in half-affrighted curi- 
osity, for they did not recognize me through the 
bushes. How absurdly young my little maid looked 
as she came toward me, her face alight with gladness ! 
far too young to be the mother of the sturdy little 
imps stumping along beside her giving vent to ex- 
cited little shrieks of “Daddy, daddy!” as they be- 
came aware of my identity, for Rex had soon picked 
up the hitherto unknown word from Daphne. 

“Such news!” exclaimed Nell, as soon as I had 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 287 


kissed them singly and in a lump, so to speak. 
1 ‘Come over to the pergola, I must read you Glen’s 
letter — -you ‘ bad mans ! ’ where have you been so 
long ? ’ ’ 

“Why, didn’t you get my telegram?” for the 
wires had been adjusted, later. 

“Nary telegram! We began to think that all 
sorts of things were happening in town, such as the 
loss of all your worldly goods, or the development 
of an affinity.” But I would not let her go on, stop- 
ping the arch mouth with rash disregard of the plow- 
man in the meadow nearby. 

“Oh, let me go! Jake will be scandalized — no, 
not another one — well, there ! — come to the pergola, 
I can’t wait to let you hear Glen’s absurd effusion.” 
And then I let her go, swung the twins up, one upon 
either shoulder and set off at a lope (which called 
forth delighted shrieks of half -fearful joy from the 
twain), in the direction of the summer-house. 

Oh, but it seemed good to be back among my 
household gods once more ! I was like a boy let out 
of school. Life seemed so full, rounded and com- 
plete I felt, as I often did these days, as though I 
had been transported mysteriously to a fair, utopian 
realm; so totally unreal, so far, far removed it was 
from the dull, colorless world I inhabitated in the 
dreary years before Nell came into my life. And the 
babies! they were the delight of my eyes, the joy of 
my heart, which seemed fairly bursting in my body 
with the richness of possession. The bond of cama- 
raderie between me and my little Daphne had strength- 
ened to such a degree that Nell often declares with a 
pretended pout that she “is going to get out her 


288 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


jealous rags if the thing keeps up,” and then she will 
laugh lightheartedly and I can see plainly that she 
is delighted that her little daughter has reaped such 
a harvest of love after the cruel neglect of the first 
months of her existence. 

I set the babies upon their feet and turned to 
look for Nell, who was coming along more leisurely 
across the flower-starred path, a beautiful, dainty, 
young figure, with its lovely chestnut crown of hair, 
with which the mild summer breezes were taking 
liberties. 

Daphne and Rex, lured by the tinkle of the bell- 
whether, trotted up to the fence that enclosed the 
sheep pastures and fold, to gaze in round-eyed wonder 
at the lambs bleating in full-mouthed content over 
the lush grasses. Some cows strayed close to the bars 
of the gate, “faintly lowing” a call to the tarrying 
milkmaid, which in our case — alas, for the artistic ! — • 
happened to be a milk-boy. 

I chose a rustic seat in the shadow of the summer- 
house and drew Nell down beside me when she came 
up. 

“Trot out the wonderful letter,” I said, making 
myself comfortable by throwing my hat into the dis- 
card and laying my head in Nell’s lap, my long legs 
dangling over the edge of the long settle in superb 
disregard of appearances. 

“Dear people:” Nell read, 

“If anybody ever tells you that this prospective 
father-stunt is a cinch, punch his head, hard , just 
once for me! I ’m worn to a shadow, pined away 
to a mere grease spot since the event. I verily be- 
lieve I suffered as much vicariously as my poor ’Nita 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 289 


did, really! It is only a little worse than seeing 
your wife hanged, drawn, and quartered, take it 
from me! to witness the throes of maternity. When 
it was over, I felt so relieved I wanted to go out and 
walk straight up Coogan’s bluff as a vent to my sur- 
charged feelings. The whole thing was a revelation 
to me, and I Ve been taking off my hat to all the 
mothers I meet ever since. 

4 ‘Wait, till I tell you! it ’s a little * ‘Big Chief,” 
the one and only like it in captivity, of course! and 
also, of course, a perfect replica of its hapless dad, 
so the fond, young mother will have it. But let me 
whisper to you, distinctly under the rose, of course, 
if I thought I looked like that I ’d jump into the 
Sound, believe me. But I ’m not without hope — 
am buoyed up and supported by a saving faith, in 
the lapse of time, to evolve something approximating 
a human being out of the unpromising material at 
hand. It is a little hard, since everybody seems to 
expect me to go about with three thicknesses of smiles 
on my phiz, to mask my disconcerted feelings. 

“My poor girl is sadly, pitifully weak, it appears 
to me, and I begrudge the care she seems to think 
it necessary to bestow on the little imp in the cradle, 
in order to see with her own eyes if the nurse is 
doing her duty by him. But the doctor insists that 
she is doing famously, and that I ’m several kinds 
of a chump for my fears, so I lay my qualms to an 
unacountable seizure of the green-eyed monster; 
especially as the fits come on more notably when 
’Nita is engaged in some sacred rite for the boy, 
performed with a solemn disregard to the near prox- 
imity of yours truly — and I Ve always had first chop 
19 


290 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


before. It is to weep. (Turn on the spigot, Nell!) 
Oh, well ! they say one can get used to everything ex- 
cept hanging, so here ’s hoping. 

“I waited to let you know about the event till 
’Nit a had recovered somewhat from the ordeal. I 
should have scared you both out of your ten compre- 
hensive senses if I had written in the first stages of my 
martyrdom. 

“ ’Nita sends her love and a kiss (pah!) from 
young Glen , the second (two more pahs !) and you are 
not to worry or interrupt your honeymoon by coming 
into town just yet. (Take it from me, this advice 
is gilt-edged ; I can endorse it with a right good will. 
Do n’t come , not yet, unless you want to get sore eyes, 
which it will take a mort of worshipful gazing at your 
own beautiful, little Daphne, to heal.) Daphne! it 
rests my mental eyes just to think of her — the darling 
little wood-pixy. Kiss her for me ; there ’s some sense 
in such an injunction. 

Be good, 

4 ‘Glen, The First!” 

How we laughed over Glen’s absurdities; for we 
could read between the lines and knew well that a 
prouder father never walked the earth. It was only 
his way to make light of the things which aroused his 
deeper feelings. It had been one of Glen’s distin- 
guishing characteristics from a child, I told Nell, 
when she demurred somewhat at his flippant lan- 
guage, though she could not help laughing till the 
tears (which, woman-wise, were not far off, anyway, 
under the circumstances) came, over his pretended 
chagrin at the likeness of the son and heir to himself. 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 291 


“Oh, I can hardly wait to go to ’Nita!” exclaimed 
Nell, with a break in her voice. “She has one be- 
longing to her in the world but me, you know. We 
must motor over next week ; that will give her plenty 
of time to rest up a little longer. I wondered why 
I didn’t hear from her this week, as usual.” 

Here a burst of furious barking woke the echoes 
of the sylvan retreat. 

We looked down the aisles of shimmering, sunlit 
green to a terrace next to the sheepfold. There we 
saw Daphne barricaded behind a fallen log on the 
other side of the fence where a gap yawned; she was 
making coaxing passes with a bunch of dried thistle 
at the “moo-cow,” which sniffed suspiciously at this 
unusual invasion of her territory, and then had put 
out a fond tongue (evidently under the hallucination 
that the little maid bore some strange affinity to the 
calf of which she had just been bereft), and began 
to lick the child ’s astonished face ; while Sphinx, good 
dog! having a hunch that all was not strictly as it 
should be, gave voice to his doggish sense of the unfit- 
ness of the situation, in “deep-mouthed bays.” 

“Just look at her,” I said to Nell, as Daphne, 
after scrambling back through the gap in the fence, 
poised herself hesitant for an instant on light feet, 
then was off like a frightened faun, giving tongue, 
shrilly, for “Wex, Wex!” her feminine soul reaching 
out for the companion and brother whose moral sup- 
port was never failing in the childish emergencies 
that arouse, for Rex adored his sister and assumed airs 
of superior wisdom and proprietary protection that 
sat comically on his infant shoulders. 

“Just look at her,” I repeated, putting my arm 


292 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


round Nell, who had sprung up in alarm at the first 
peep, and drawing her down beside me again on the 
settle; “ is n’t she the very spirit of the greenwood — 
look at her now, see how different her airy, fairy 
skips are from Rex’s more stumpy movements? Oh, 
she is a darling little wood nymph, a laughing, little 
sprite straight from elf -land. And why should n ’t 
she be?” I asked of the world at large,; ‘‘when her 
little mother, the one and only, original Daphne of 
mythological memory, breathes and pulsates and 
glows with the self-same, airy grace ! ’ ’ 

Nell opened her eyes in mock deprecation at this 
bare-faced compliment, but I could see it diverted her 
immensely. 

“Oh, oh! what a pretty speech! Daphne, me?” 
flinging grammar to the winds. 

“Yes, you ! My Daphne ! The one and only orig- 
inal Daphne, reincarnated, when she repented of that 
old-time, wild impulse to flee at the pursuit of love ! 
Oh, she had plenty of time to repent as she languished 
in her green fastness within the heart of the laurel 
tree, for she longed, with passion of regret, for the 
young god to come a-wooing once more. How she 
struggled and strained till her leafy bonds were burst 
asunder and — the very spirit of the forest came forth 
from her long dreaming and floated zepherwise 
straight to my arms!” and I possessed myself of the 
little hand and carried it passionately to my lips. 

“Egotist!” Nell reproved, drawing back when I 
would have taken her into my arms regardless of the 
boy driving the cows home from the adjoining 
meadow; “well, aren’t you the modest thing! So 
you are a young god, are you?” 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 293 


“Of course,” I declared, brazenly, “I must be; 
I ’d have to be, to be in anywise worthy of — Daphne ! 
My Daphne, the incarnate sprite of the heart of the 
ancient greenwood,” and then my arms closed round 
her insistently, for there was no one near to be 
scandalized. 

‘ ‘ Ancient ! I like that ! Rex, ’ ’ catching hold of his 
skirts, as that small man stumped past, “Rex, are 
you going to stand by and allow this gay deceiver 
to call mother ancient?” 

Rex looked up out of a tangle of yellow curls 
from his young mother to me, a gravely judicial ex- 
pression oddly informing his baby features. Then he 
scrambled up laboriously on the other side of Nell. 

“Pitty muwer; pitty, pitty muwer!” he enunci- 
ated, reproachfully, his chubby hands placed one on 
either side of her face, pointing his remarks by soft, 
little pats and kisses. 

“Here, you young scamp!” with a sudden tweak 
of his pink ear, “you butt-in-sky ! ” and here I scowled 
at him, blackly, “don’t you know better than to 
usurp a fellow’s prerogatives in this bare-faced way? 
and on his honeymoon, too! Of all the cheek — play 
fair, you young imp — it ’s against all the rules of the 
game, I tell you. Here, Daphne,” as that little pixy- 
girlie danced up to me, her light footsteps putting 
to shame the wind-blown leaf-dance of her woodland 
sisterhood, “here, you wood-nymph, the second, take 
this young interloper off with you and show him your 
lair in the secret fastnesses of the wood, and see that 
you charm and bewitch him in your own inimitable 
way, too ; then a fellow can have a clear field for his 
own blandishments. Look at me ! a nice bridegroom 


294 Annals of Girl in Slumber-Boots 


I am ; it is to weep ! as Glen says,” for little Daphne 
sprang into my lap and well-nigh smothered me 
with her blythe, young arms clasped tightly round 
my neck. 

“Daddy!” she breathed, a passion of ecstatic 
possession lilting through the little voice, i ‘ daddy ! ’ ’ 

“It ’s plain I can expect no help here,” I told 
Nell, in a resigned voice. 

A happy light shone in those great, mystic brown 
eyes, which met mine merrily across a melange of 
wildly-struggling young arms and legs, for the babies 
were now making ineffectual efforts to “swing your 
partners, ’ ’ judging from effects. 

I strained Nell to my side, babies and all, in one 
comprehensive, indiscriminate embrace, touching the 
heights sublime once more in that hour of perfected 
happiness. 

“My Rex!” murmured Nell, calling me once more 
by the name she had given me so long ago, ‘ ‘ my Rex ! ’ ’ 
relegating the baby in her lap to one side, but still 
holding him fast with one hand while with the other 
she clasped Daphne and me. 

“Oh,” she said, presently, “it seems as if life 
were almost too perfect, too full, too completely 
happy for this earth ! It is as if I had struggled up, 
up out of that valley of poignant misery through 
the turbulent waves of suffering, across — ” hesitating 
as though feeling her way, “across some — some 
friendly divide to the great, wide, fair mesa of — of 
peace ! And that now the sun of content had shone 
away every fearsome shadow of the past — the free 
winds of heaven had blown away the mists of that 
dread valley from my spirit.” And the happy, 


Fortune Shuffles for a New Deal 295 


thankful tears welled up spontaneously in the beauti- 
ful eyes that held so much of happiness for me. 

I looked into them, worshipingly, an answering 
mist glinting in my own. 

“Bless, me what a grandiloquent little speech!” 

I observed, lightly, swerving away with deft haste 
from the hint of our troubles in that tender voice. 
Please God, naught but tranquillity should be the por- v 
tion of that much-tried soul from this on. 

* 4 There now,” I continued, whimsically; “I ’m 
sure there must have been a fountain, a secret spring 
in the heart of the laurel tree, where my Daphne had 
her home so long. I see the limpid flash of its waters 
in her sweet eyes this minute ! ’ ’ 


OCT 31 1912 





